


Gwen Graves and the Hidden Magic

by Katerinaki



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Credence Barebone Lives, F/M, Powerful Credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerinaki/pseuds/Katerinaki
Summary: It's been months since Gwen Graves has heard from her brother and she's worried. Coming home for the holidays, it's clear that there's something strange going on. And then she runs into an eccentric magizoologist and suddenly Gwen's winter break has gotten a lot more interesting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it strange that absolutely nobody noticed that Grindelwald was impersonating Percival Graves. Didn't he have family? Wasn't there anyone to notice? Combined with the fact that I thought Credence's character was absolutely wasted in the movies, and voila! An Original Character Alternative Universe where Credence gets what he should have had all along. I hope you enjoy it! I certainly enjoyed writing and there is already inspiration for a sequel.

Chapter 1:

The girl by the window in the navy coat with her black curls just peeking out of the bottom of her matching navy and cream hat looked worried. Her gloves, which would normally have been resting in her lap, were being wrung through her hands as if it was her goal to rip them to shreds before the train came to its final stop in New York’s Pennsylvania Station. It was odd to see a young woman of her age, and obvious social status, to be traveling by train alone. Over her head, placed there by the porter when she boarded, was a trunk with a number of slightly eccentric stamps. The most curious was that of a great bird with celtic knots running through its outstretched wings.

“End of the line, Pennsylvania Station. Last stop, folks,” the conductor called, causing the girl to startle and begin to fidget. She pulled on her gloves and smoothed down her jacket, her delicate fingers touching at her hat and hair to make sure both were still in place. As the train came to a stop in the station, the other passengers in the car stood and began gathering up their own things.

“Help you with your trunk, Miss?” a young man a few seats away asked.

“Oh yes, thank you,” she replied and watched as he braced himself to life the no doubt heavy piece of luggage, only to find it rather light and nearly overbalancing as he took the trunk down.

“Don’t know my own strength,” he joked as he handled the trunk with ease down the aisle. He jumped onto the platform and set the trunk down before turning and offering her his hand.

“Thank you, you’ve been too kind,” she said politely.

“It was my pleasure, Miss…”

“Graves.”

“Miss Graves, I’m Jack Collins. Maybe we’ll see each other around.”

“Maybe, although New York is a very big city.”

Jack Collins winked at her, the cheekiness, before touching his fingers to his cap and wandering off.

Guinevere Graves smiled just a bit before she looked around to be sure nobody was watching and hefted the trunk as if it weighed nothing. She stepped into a nearby alcove, out of sight of the other passengers on the platform, and reached into her coat, pulling out a slender stick. The stick was carved with swirling bands like hundreds of tiny, overlapping feathers that culminated in an elegant bird’s head on the pommel. The wood of her wand was worn smooth from her hand and her fingers found their natural grooves as she brandished it at the trunk. With a tiny flick, the trunk shrank until it fit in the palm of her hand. She pocketed the tiny trunk and took another glance around to make sure nobody had seen anything before slipping out of the alcove and back into the sea of passengers as it flooded up the stairs and dispersed onto the streets of New York City.

Guinevere Graves smiled and took a deep breath, savoring the familiar hustle and bustle of her city. She’d missed this out in the seclusion of Ilvermorny, the magical boarding school where she’d spent the last several months. Ilvermorny was wonderful, but it was built for its remote location, perched on the tallest peak of Mount Greylock and shrouded in a magical fog that never lifted. That just wasn’t Gwen Graves’ preference.

But she wasn’t just coming home for a change of scenery. In truth, she was rather concerned. It had been months since her brother’s last letter, and although his job certainly kept him busy, it just wasn’t like him to not send _anything_. So her first stop was going to be to her brother’s apartment, once she found an Apparation point.

“Excuse me!”

A second later she was nearly thrown to the ground by a man pushing his way through the crowd, a battered leather suitcase ramming her in the shin.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I—Gwen?”

Gwen looked up from her bruised leg, surprised to see a familiar face.

“Tina? What are you—who’s that?” Gwen demanded, gesturing towards the wizard in the blue coat who was still pushing through the crowd.

“That—“

“Oh, hello Gwen! I thought I heard you!” Tina’s bubbly sister, Queenie, appeared just behind her, along with a rather portly, wheezing _no-maj_ , or all things! What on Earth was going on?

“Oh, no time to explain right now, best you come with us,” Queenie said, looping her arm in Gwen’s and suddenly she was part of their group, weaving through the no-majs after the incredibly rude wizard in the blue coat, who kept looking in every direction except right in front of him.

“Tina, where are we going?” Gwen asked.

“I’m really no sure,” Tina seemed reluctant to admit.

“Then who is that?” Gwen gestured towards the wizard they were following.

“Oh, that’s Mr. Scamander,” Queenie replied. “Yes, he’s a little odd,” she agreed to Gwen’s unspoken assessment.

“This way,” he called in a very British accent before stepping out into the middle of the street, heedless of the cabs that honked at him. Gwen, Tina, Queenie, and the no-maj followed him into an apartment building where they proceeded up all seven flights of stairs before coming out on the roof. Gwen was just stepping out the door when Mr. Scamander flicked open his suitcase and swept it through the air like a leather butterfly net, scooping up some sort of small, blue creature.

“Got her,” Mr. Scamander declared, snapping the lid closed and turning on them with a proud grin. That was when he noticed their extra.

“Who are you?”

“This is Mr. Graves’ sister, Gwen,” Queenie explained. “Gwen, this is—“

“New Scamander, magizoologist,” Mr. Scamander said, nodding. “Your brother sentenced me to death just an hour ago, so forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.”

Gwen stuttered, shocked at the blasé revelation. “My—my brother did _what_?”

“Tina too,” Mr. Scamander added.

Gwen turned on her friend who suddenly couldn’t seem to make eye contact with anyone.

“What—is—going—on—here?”

“Maybe we should talk about this back at our place,” Queenie suggested, pulling out her wand. She turned to the no-maj beside her. “You ready, honey?”

He looked at her outstretched hand and swallowed hard before grabbing it. Tina took Gwen’s and the five of them Apparated to Tina and Queenie’s apartment.

No sooner did Gwen find her feet once more on the ground did she turn on the Goldstein sisters.

“Alright, I want to know everything right now, starting with why you’re chasing a foreign magizoologist with a no-maj, in direct violation of the law!”

As the tale came out, Gwen almost couldn’t believe her ears. Tina told her about seeing Mr. Scamander at the bank and the proceeding chase after his niffler (“What’s a niffler?”) that ended in not only an un-Obliviated no-maj (“Jacob Kowalski, Miss.”) but a suitcase full of dangerous (“They’re not dangerous.”) magical creatures lost in New York City.

“I didn’t mean to open it,” Mr. Kowalski insisted. “It just sort of sprung open and this thing—“

“A murtlap,” Mr. Scamander corrected.

“—murtlap, bit me! And something else—“

“The erumpent.”

“—destroyed the whole street!”

“Yes, but we’ve caught that, and would’ve probably retrieved Dougal too if it wasn’t for Miss Goldstein’s intervention.”

Everyone looked at Tina who winced. “I thought, with something running loose in the city, it was better to hand the suitcase over to MACUSA.”

“Something is running loose in the city?”

“Yes, and it killed a no-maj politician.”

“And _Mr. Graves_ , your brother, decided Miss Goldstein and I were trying to deliberately breach the Statute of Secrecy by purposefully releasing a creature in the hopes of revealing the magical world to the muggles, and sentenced us to death.”

Gwen turned to Tina, who nodded confirmation.

“But that’s—he wouldn’t just—“

Gwen was struggling to try to figure out why. Why would Percival, her protective, but exceedingly fair-minded, brother sentence the woman who was quite possibly her closest friend, to death?

“He wouldn’t do that,” Gwen declared at last.

“I was there. He most certainly did,” Mr. Scamander retorted.

Gwen rounded on the magizoologist, eyes blazing. “Now listen here, Mr. Scamander,” she growled, punctuating her words with a jab of her finger to his chest. “My brother may be strict and over-protective, but he is also fair. That’s why he’s Director of Magical Security. And I’m telling you now, he would not sentence a foreign national and a MACUSA Auror to death without a full criminal trial before the Grand Court. He—would—not—do—that.”

The wizard cringed away until he was practically pinned against the wall.

“It’s alright,” Queenie jumped in, pulling Gwen away. “You’re right. We believe you, Gwennie. Promise.”

Gwen found herself wrapped up in Queenie’s arms, fighting back tears, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t like _she_ was the one with a death sentence and all of MACUSA after her. But not getting any letters and then coming back to find something like _this_ , it just confirmed what Gwen had feared when she made the decision to skip out on the end of her term and come back early.

“I need to talk to him,” she declared at last. “Something is wrong, and I need to talk to him to find out why.”

“That may not be a good idea,” Mr. Scamander said quietly.

“Why not?”

He frowned and Queenie gasped over Gwen’s head.

“He said that?”

Gwen looked up, worriedly. “Said what?”

Mr. Scamander sighed. “When we were in the interrogation room, Director Graves found an Obscurus in my case. It’s not dangerous. I came across one in my travels, and although it killed the child, I was able to separate the Obscurus itself and keep it contained within a shield. He was very interested in it, but when I explained that it couldn’t survive outside the shield, he seemed…disappointed. His exact words were ‘So it’s useless without the host’.”

Mr. Scamander looked Gwen in the eye for the first time since they’d been introduced.

“A parasitical, magical force that killed a child should not be _used_ for anything, except for study in how to prevent it. Whatever you believe your brother to be, I fear his motives are not so noble anymore. If you go, you shouldn’t go alone.”

Gwen didn’t know what to make of any of it, but one thing was certain. She needed to talk to her brother. It seemed her nervousness had been warranted. She took a deep breath.

“Alright. Tina?”

Tina had been fairly quiet after she’d told her part of the story. She looked up at Gwen with just a glimmer of hope.

“I know the other Aurors are probably after you now, but you know my brother probably the best of anyone else here. I trust you. Will you come with me?”

Slowly, Tina nodded.

“I’ll come too,” Queenie added. “Your brother usually has his Occlumency shields up, but maybe I can hear a little bit.”

“If you’re going, then I’m going,” the no-maj declared.

Mr. Scamander sighed. “Might as well make a group outing of it. But we can’t exactly waltz into his office at MACUSA right now.”

Gwen got an idea and suddenly reached into her pocket for her trunk, expanding it and rifling through its contents.

“We’re not going to walk in,” Gwen declared as her hand closed around the item she was looking for. She held up a slim, gold bracelet that she rarely wore for one reason.

“We’re going to Portkey right into his office.”

“Isn’t that the bracelet Mr. Graves gave you for your 15th birthday?” Tina asked.

“Yes. It also happens to be an unregistered Portkey. Percival follows the rules, except when it comes to protecting me. It will take us right into his office with the right password. Meant to be a quick escape if I ever found myself…well let’s just say Percival was concerned for my safety when he became Director of Magical Security.”

Mr. Scamander eyed the bracelet and nodded approval. “That should work.”

“You all should be Disillusioned when we go. It won’t fool him for long, but maybe long enough for me to get him talking.”

“What’s Disillusioned?” Mr. Kowalski asked.

“It’s a spell that causes the target to take on the properties off—“

“Invisible,” Tina explained simply. “We’re gonna make you invisible.”

“Wow!” Mr. Kowalski breathed, with all the wonder and excitement of a no-maj wizard child on his first day at Ilvermorny. “Is it gonna hurt?”

“Not at all.” Tina took out her wand and tapped him briskly on the head.

“Ow! I thought you said—whoa that feels weird.”

Mr. Kowalski shivered as the spell trickled down his body causing it to take on the color of the wall and floor behind him. When it was done, Gwen could see a faint ripple, but only when he waved his hands in front of his face.

“This is crazy!”

“It’s better you don’t move too much,” Gwen told him. “Movement tends to disrupt it.”

“Oh, sorry,” came the reply with a nervous shuffle.

Tina, Queenie, and Mr. Scamander Disillusioned themselves as well and they all gathered around, each grabbing a part of the bracelet.

“Okay, on three. One, two, three, Elaine!”

Gwen felt the familiar jerk just behind her navel as the Portkey whisked them off and dropped them right in the middle of Percival Graves’ office. To their relief, he wasn’t in, but a moment later they could hear footsteps coming down the hall and Gwen recognized her brother’s deep voice.

“Thank you, Hernandez,” he said as Tina, Queenie, Mr. Scamander, and Mr. Kowalski scattered. Gwen was left standing in the middle of the office when the door opened and she caught the confused and suspicious expression that shouldn’t have been on her brother’s face.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

Gwen held up the bracelet. “You gave me a Portkey, remember?”

But something was definitely off because Gwen could see quite clearly that he _didn’t_ remember. Still, he made a big show of “remembering” as he moved around his desk.

“Of course, is there something wrong?”

Gwen crossed her arms, giving her “brother” a glare, but really, she was placing her hand on her wand.

“That remains to be seen. How about you explain why I haven’t received a single letter from you in almost two months?”

The Graves in front of her gestured around him. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a crisis here. A no-maj politician was killed by a beast, set loose by a wizard and witch who are at large right now.”

Gwen snigged, as if his words meant nothing. “You didn’t stop when you had that werewolf outbreak back in ’23.”

“That was an entirely different matter.”

“You’re right, it was. _Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

He blocked her spell with the speed borne of a practiced duelist, but he hadn’t been expecting a silent hex from Tina, who’d wedged herself between the wall and the bookshelf in the corner. She and the others banished their Disillusionments as Gwen moved around the desk, careful to keep her wand on the prone form.

“I don’t know who you are,” Gwen growled, “but you are _not_ my brother. And there wasn’t a werewolf outbreak in ’23 because my brother and _Tina_ caught the guy before he could make others.”

“Let’s see who the imposter is,” Mr. Scamander murmured. “ _Revelio_.”

Gwen watched in growing horror as her brother’s black hair faded to a blonde, almost white, shade and his face morphed, becoming rounder and older. The man who stared up at her after the changes finished, Gwen did not recognize. But Mr. Scamander and Tina sure did.

“Gellert Grindelwald,” Mr. Scamander said, keeping his wand trained on the wizard.

“Queenie, go alert Hernandez and President Picquery,” Tina ordered.

“Come on, honey,” Queenie took Mr. Kowalski’s wrist and led him out the door. Tina, Mr. Scamander, and Gwen never looked away from Grindelwald, though Gwen could feel a knot welling up in her throat. Grindelwald must’ve been impersonating her brother for at least two months now. Who knew where he could be, or even if he was still alive! He could’ve been dead for months now, and she hadn’t even known.

“He most likely had to keep the real Graves nearby,” Mr. Scamander murmured “Alive too, if he was going to keep harvesting for the Polyjuice Potion.”

The door burst open and MACUSA Aurors flooded the room, followed by President Picquery, who looked at the three and down at the petrified Grindelwald.

“Mr. Scamander, Miss Goldstein, it appears we owe you an apology.”

The Aurors set about disarming Grindelwald before cancelling the petrification only after his hands were spelled and bound.

“Mr. Grindelwald,” President Picquery said. “Where is the _real_ Percival Graves?”

Grindelwald just sneered. “Do you think your prison will hold me?”

“We’ll do our best. Get him out of here.”

The Aurors hauled him away and Gwen watched, stunned as they took the only person who knew where her brother was.

“What about Percival?”

President Picquery sighed. “I’m sorry we didn’t recognize the imposter. I’ll put a team of my best Aurors out to find him. You have my word, Gwen. In fact, Miss Goldstein, you’re wasted in the Wand Permit Office. You’ll be leading the search. Report to Hernandez tomorrow.”

“Y-yes ma’am, thank you.”

“And is it safe to say all of your creatures have been found, Mr. Scamander?”

“All but one still, Madame President.”

“Well see that it is found and returned to that case. The International Confederation will want solid answers soon, and I need to make sure what we’re dealing with is _not_ one of your creatures.”

“Of course, Madame.”

She left and the five of them stood uncertainly in the Director of Magical Security’s office.

“What’s the last one we need to find?” Tina asked.

“Dougal, my demiguise.”

“A demiguise?” Gwen groaned.

“You know what that is?”

“Percival liked them when we were kids. You had to go lose an _invisible_ creature in New York City?”

“It’s invisible?” Tina choked. “But how do you even catch an invisible—“

“With a great deal of difficulty.”

“Right, then I guess we better get started. I know a guy who might be able to help. But Gwen, I don’t think Mr. Graves would want you going.”

Gwen scoffed. “Of course I’m going! Like what Percival wanted has ever stopped me before! Where are we going?”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

When Gwen Graves had gotten on the train that morning, she hadn’t expected to be standing outside a grimy brick wall, plastered with an old lipstick poster for a brand called “The Blind Pig”, dressed in a fine, pale green party dress. Tina pulled out her wand and passed it over the poster and the wall parted, revealing a short couple of stairs with smooth jazz drifting up from below.

Mr. Scamander flicked his wand and his tie fluttered into a neat knot.

“Let me do the talking. I know Gnarlak.”

The Blind Pig looked like a no-maj speakeasy, except no no-maj speakeasy would have a house-elf watching the bar or a goblin sitting in the corner smoking a cigar.

“Come on,” Tina told Mr. Scamander, nodding towards the goblin.

“Why don’t we go get a drink?” Queenie suggested to Gwen and Mr. Kowalski. They sidled up to the bar, leaning against the hardwood.

“Who does a guy have to talk to ta get a drink around here?” Mr. Kowalski muttered.

“Never seen a house-elf before, genius?” the barkeep retorted.

“No I—of course, my uncle was a house-elf,” Mr. Kowalski stuttered.

Gwen chuckled as the house-elf sniffed, obviously not appeased.

“Five shots of giggle water, please,” Queenie said.

The house-elf eyed Gwen. “You even old enough to drink, kid?”

Gwen turned her chin up and channeled her brother’s most judgmental, condescending stare. The house-elf chuckled but slid a shot her way. In truth, she was only just old enough to drink, having reached her majority in October. But Ilvermorny didn’t allow spirits of any kind for students and any excursions away from the castle were heavily chaperoned. Percival had promised her to take her out for her first drink over the winter break, but then he’d gone and gotten himself abducted and Gwen was left standing with Queenie in a wizard bar, holding the shot of clear liquid and trying to decide if she really wanted to start now. Except the elf was eyeing her smugly, sure that she didn’t have the guts. Queenie no doubt heard all of the uncertainty racing through her mind. She looked like she was about to say something when Gwen steeled herself and tossed the shot back.

Gigglewater didn’t taste like much of anything going down. But as soon as it hit her stomach it felt like her insides were being tickled and the sensation bubbled back up her throat. A surprised chuckle broke out of her mouth and Gwen threw her hands over her mouth in surprise. She grinned and laughed for real when she saw Mr. Kowalski’s startled face.

“Try some,” she urged, sliding a glass his way and reaching for another, but Queenie shooed her hand away.

“Maybe some other time, where we don’t have other things to think about, hm?”

“Ahaha!” Mr. Kowalski exclaimed, his eyes wide and delighted at the effects of the wizarding alcohol. “Whoa, that’s something!”

He was about to reach for another when there was a growl and a crash from across the room and Gwen saw Newt drive across the table while Tina brandished her wand, stunning two wizards who were coming at her.

“That’s our cue,” Gwen said, pulling out her own wand and jumping into the fray. Mr. Scamander was wrestling the goblin Gnarlak while Tina stood in a semi-circle of his goons, proving just why she was a MACUSA Auror. Gwen hit one of the goons with a Stunner from behind and slipped in beside Tina, deflecting spells.

“I thought you were handling this!”

“Negotiations went south,” Tina retorted, nodding towards Mr. Scamander and the goblin. Gnarlak seemed to get the upper hand, only to take a punch right to his long, pointed nose, courtesy of Mr. Kowalski.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mr. Scamander said, grabbing something out of Gnarlak’s twisted fingers. Tina and Gwen shot a rapid series of Stunners before reaching out for Newt’s hand as Queenie grabbed Mr. Kowalski. Gwen swore she heard a strangled “Ahaha!” as they Apparated away.

When they landed once more, they were in an alley looking a bit more flustered than when they entered The Blind Pig, but otherwise unharmed.

“I hope we got what we needed to find your demiguise, Mr. Scamander,” Gwen panted. “Because I don’t think Gnarlak is going to invite us back ever again.”

“Please, call me Newt and yes, we did,” Newt replied, straightening out his jacket and patting his right pocket in particular. Gwen knew she didn’t really want to know what he had tucked away in there.

“You’re pretty good in a bar fight, Miss Graves,” Mr. Kowalski told her. “After a brawl like that, you can call me Jacob.”

“Gwen, please. I don’t get into my first bar fight for just anybody.”

The five of them shared a relieved laugh, glad to have all made it safely out and with all limbs intact.

“Well then, shall we go retrieve Dougal?” Newt said at last.

“Did Gnarlak say where he was?”

“The department store at a place called ‘Macy’s’?” Newt replied, a bit uncertainly.

But Gwen and Queenie’s eyes lit up as they exchanged an excited glance. It had been such a long time since they’d had a girls’ shopping day.

“We’re not going to buy shoes,” Tina scolded. “We’re just going to find the demiguise.”

“Of course,” Queenie replied distractedly, already listening to the different ideas Gwen was passing her silently. Jacob and Newt looked a bit concerned and Tina groaned, defeated.

“Let’s go, before we lose it. The store should be closed so we shouldn’t need to worry about no-majs seeing anything.”

At the mention of the store being closed, Gwen and Queenie’s enthusiasm diminished a bit, but at least they could still keep their eyes open and maybe browse a bit for their next return.

Macy’s was indeed dark when they Apparated inside its main sales floor. Actually, it looked a bit creepy with all the models in shadow and devoid of people. The department store had always felt friendly and welcoming the occasions Gwen had come with Queenie or Percival. Percival had always made a fuss about accompanying her, but she always saw him eyeing the men’s fashions as they browsed.

Gwen was just admiring a pair of stylish lavender shoes when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. A handbag appeared to be floating in mid-air and going for a stroll through the store.

“Don’t approach it,” Newt whispered, obviously seeing the same thing. “And whatever you do, try not to be predictable. A demiguise’s sight operates on the most probably outcome.”

“Of course, it does,” Jacob retorted, but the five of them followed the floating purse up into the attic of the department store where they found something they were certainly not expecting.

“Oh dear. It appears I may have missed one.”

An enormous, feathered, snake-like creature filled nearly the entire attic. It blinked down at them as they entered, though luckily didn’t seem inclined to attack.

“How could you have missed _that_?” Tina hissed.

“Occamies will grow to fit available space. It was significantly smaller when it was with me,” Newt replied. They watched as the demiguise suddenly shimmered back into visibility and began tossing fruit from the purse up to the occamy.

“He’s babysitting,” Newt murmured. “Well done, Dougal.”

The demiguise paused to nod back at him before continuing on.

“How are we supposed to get _that_ out of here?” Gwen asked, gesturing at the occamy.

“Alright, I need a bug and a teapot. Occamies will—“

But he never finished his words as Queenie took a step forward and accidentally kicked an ornament on the floor, causing it to ring. The occamy shrieked and began growing impossibly bigger as Dougal decided it was the right time to jump on Jacob’s back and tug his hair.

“Bug!” Jacob called as boxes tipped over and cockroaches went scattering.

“I’ll get the teapot,” Tina called, scrambling over boxes. The occamy was quickly filling _all_ available space and Gwen had to dodge a wing as she dived after the scurrying cockroaches.

“Gotcha!” she exclaimed as she dived for one, but it slipped through her fingers. The next moment, a scaled coil slammed into her, joining her to the floor. She struggled, trying to wriggle free but the occamy was just getting bigger!

“Bug!” Jacob shouted, holding up a writhing cockroach triumphantly. All movement ceased as the occamy spotted the cockroach.

“Alright, put the bug in the teapot,” Newt instructed from where he was also pinned down. The only one who seemed free to move was Tina, who stood atop a pile of boxes with a teapot in hand and watching the occamy warily. She was much too far from Jacob, but maybe if Gwen could reach her wand, aha! She pulled her wand free.

“Jacob, when I tell you, let go of the bug.”

“Huh?”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa,_ now!”

Jacob released the roach, but it hovered where it was, the occamy never looking away.

“Ready, Tina?” Gwen called.

“Ready.”

Carefully, she levitated the squirming bug slowly but steadily across the attic. The occamy followed, shifting a bit causing more pressure. Gwen hissed in pain through gritted teeth, but her brother had taught her how to fight through the pain and her spell never faltered. The roach hovered just over the pot.

“Now!” Tina cried.

Gwen released the spell and the bug fell and the occamy dived after it. As quickly as it had expanded, it shrunk again, squeezing through the opening to snatch up the bug inside. Tina clapped a lid over the opening just as its feathered tail disappeared with a flick. Gwen hauled herself up and blinked around at the others.

“We did it,” she breathed before descending once more into laughter. Later on, she’d say the gigglewater had made her more susceptible to fits. Regardless, with their task at last complete, the five of them returned to Queenie and Tina’s apartment for some well-deserved rest.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Upon rising the next day, Gwen felt tired still, but her stomach growled hungrily. She hadn’t had much to eat at all the day before. It was strange to think she’d begun the day getting on a train and had ended it recapturing a baby occamy in a closed no-maj department store. Not to mention she’d uncovered her brother’s imposter, assisted in the capture of a dangerous dark wizard, had her first taste of alcohol, and gotten into a bar brawl.

“Percival is going to have a fit,” she muttered as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and ran a few fingers through her black curls. It was a good thing she’d had her school trunk with her, otherwise she would’ve had to borrow from Tina and Queenie.

Tina had suggested it wasn’t a good idea to go to the townhouse where she lived with her brother. With Percival abducted, it was most likely the scene of the crime, not to mention Grindelwald had been living there for months. It was impossible to say what he’d left behind until the Aurors and cursebreakers did a thorough sweep.

“You can stay with us as long as it takes,” Queenie assured her.

Of course, that had prompted some sleeping re-arrangements. Newt had insisted he could sleep in his suitcase.

“I have a cot set up in there for when I need to watch over someone who’s sick.”

Jacob had insisted he was fine on the floor in the sitting room, but Queenie had laughed at him and transfigured the couch into a modest bed with a swish of her wand. Tina had expanded her own bed so she and Queenie could share and Gwen was left to take Queenie’s bed. Her head had barely hit the pillow before she was asleep.

The smell of fresh eggs and cooking sausage roused her. She slipped on her dressing robe and plodded out into the kitchen where the others were already up and Jacob was at the table, tucking a napkin under his chin as Queenie set a plate in front of him. The way she beamed as he dug into his breakfast fervently caught Gwen’s attention. Queenie was kind and caring of everyone she met. That’s just how she was. But Gwen could say she’d only seen Queenie look at maybe three people like that, and one of them was Tina.

‘ _Interesting,’_ she thought purposefully and Queenie looked up across the room and smiled coyly. Gwen sent her friend thoughts of family and happiness and Queenie seemed to get the message loud and clear.

“Thanks, Gwennie.”

Newt watched their interaction like he was studying a particularly interesting creature as he sat down to eat. Gwen joined him and the five of them were soon sitting down to a well-earned breakfast.

“I like ‘us’,” Queenie declared, gesturing around at the group.

“Me too,” Jacob agreed.

“Yes well, it’s nice, I suppose, to have…friends,” Newt admitted, and even Tina smiled softly.

“What now?” Jacob asked.

“Now, I must do what I set out to do,” Newt replied. “Frank has waited long enough to return home.”

“To Arizona, right?”

“Yes.”

The group fell into silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware.

“Well I’d be pleased as punch to come with you,” Queenie said at last.

“Queenie!”

“Well, Tinnie, you’re going to be busy with the Aurors and the investigation and I ain’t never seen a…what is Frank, a thunderbird before.”

“And what about your job here?”

“Someone else can get the coffee for a couple of days.”

“I should stay here,” Gwen said, though the idea of traveling to Arizona to release a thunderbird back into the wild was awe-inspiring. Gwen hadn’t seen one before either, but they held a special place with her, being part of that house. Her wand even had a thunderbird feather core and the carvings on the wood matched the description of female thunderbirds.

“There’s not much you’ll be able to do to help, Gwen. You know that,” Tina said.

“I know. But I have to be here if— _when_ you find him.”

Tina nodded, understanding.

“Alright, then when do you leave?” Jacob asked.

“Tomorrow,” Newt replied.

That meant they still had one more day.

“I have to report to Hernandez,” Tina said, directing her dirty dishes to start washing themselves.

“Queenie, you should at least come and tell them you’ll be away for a bit.”

“Alright, I’m coming,” Queenie conceded.

“I’ll be in my case, preparing everyone for travel,” Newt said.

“Mind if I come help you out?” Jacob asked, already getting up to follow Newt down into the suitcase. Gwen was left with nothing to do. She spelled her plate to join the cleaning line before getting dressed for the day. Her hair took a bit of fancy wand-work, but soon it was back to its usual, perky style.

“I’m going to get some air,” she called to nobody in particular as she left.

“Gwen, is that you?” Mrs. Esposito, Tina and Queenie’s landlady called.

“Yes, good morning, Mrs. Esposito,” Gwen replied as she passed her in the hall.

“Finished school yet?”

“Almost done, Mrs. Esposito.”

“Hm, so much schooling,” Gwen heard as she slipped out the front door.

It was a lazy morning, it seemed, for much of New York. Gwen was able to amble down the street at a leisurely pace and nobody really tried to shove by her. She window shopped a bit, but her school allowance was almost depleted and with Percival, well, not around, she didn’t really have any funds to buy anything. She was just turning away from a beautiful periwinkle shawl when she heard a crack, followed by a pained cry. It was not uncommon for parents to discipline children with a belt. Gwen had never had it done to her since Percival had pretty much raised her after their parents passed away, but she’d had friends who described it and she’d seen it done on one rare occasion.

Therefore, she was acquainted with the sounds. Only this seemed worse. The cracks were so loud they carried over the sounds of the city. Passersby purposefully looked away from the alley, obviously knowing what was going on there too. Gwen watched the mouth of the alley as the blows stopped and a few second later a short woman left, adjusting the bland gray hat on her head. Except no child followed after her. Surely the disciplined child would be stepping out too, head bowed in guilt and remorse?

Gwen watched as the woman strode off, not once looking back to the alley. She rounded the corner and was gone, and still the child did not appear. Something was wrong. Gwen hurried across the street and peered down the alleyway, uncertain what she’d see. She almost missed him.

In a heap of garbage, a young man dressed in a somber, black suit lay prone. His face and hands, the only bits of skin Gwen could see, were bloody. His eyes were closed and Gwen was afraid he was dead with how pale he looked. But she saw him draw in a shallow, pained breath and knew he was alive, but very, very hurt.

“Don’t worry,” Gwen whispered, kneeling and gently grabbing his arm. The man let out a pitiful moan of pain and Gwen let go, afraid of hurting him more.

“I’m going to get you to safety,” she murmured, settling on grabbing just his pinky, the only part of him that seemed relatively uninjured. She was surprised to feel a spark of magic when her skin touched his.

“You’re a wizard?” she breathed. But that didn’t make any sense. The woman who’d left him, she had definitely been a no-maj. Gwen hadn’t felt an ounce of magic on her. But then, she hadn’t really felt the magic in this wizard until she’d touched his skin. Something was very wrong, and she knew she couldn’t sort it out alone.

“Hold tight,” she told the wizard, before Apparating.

Gwen took him back to Queenie and Tina’s. Where else could she take him? Fontaine Magical General? Somehow the idea of just dropping him off there seemed absolutely terrible. Not to mention it was completely irresponsible.

‘ _Newt will know what to do,’_ Gwen told herself as she laid him as gently as possible on the couch and moved to knock on the lid of the battered leather case sitting on the floor. A moment later, Newt’s head popped out of the case.

“Is everything all—“ He spotted the bloody, battered wizard.

“Please help him?” Gwen asked.

“Merlin’s beard!” Newt exclaimed, hurrying out of the suitcase. Jacob was just behind him and he looked at the injured man in shock.

“It’s the Second Salem boy,” Newt muttered, his wand coming out and beginning a series of diagnostic and healing charms.

“Who?” Gwen asked.

“The Second Salemers. They’re a group of muggles who want to destroy magic. Credence? Credence can you hear me?”

But that didn’t make any sense.

“Destroy magic? But he’s a wizard!”

Newt paused. “What did you say?”

“Him,” Gwen pointed at the man on the couch. Credence, Newt had called him. “He’s a wizard.”

“How can you tell? Did you see him perform magic?”

“No,” Gwen admitted. “But I can just feel it, when there’s magic. I didn’t catch it until I touched his hand to Apparate, but I’m sure of it. Credence is a wizard and a horrible lady was beating him, and then she just left him! There, in the alley to freeze to death!”

New looked back at Credence and Gwen recognized his expression of surprised wonder, the same look when they’d found the occamy with Dougal.

“It’s him,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“What’s him?” Jacob asked, looking decidedly confused.

“I knew as soon as I saw the markings on the muggle it killed. It’s not a creature that’s killing muggles. It’s an Obscurus. _Credence_ , he’s the Obscurus!”

“But he’s…not a child,” Gwen insisted. “And Percival said that there hasn’t been an Obscurus in America for…”

A long time. Decades, if not centuries.

“Certainly, I’ve never met an _adult_ Obscurus before. He must be incredibly powerful to be able to control it for so long without—“

Gwen’s mind was racing, but it quickly came to the only available conclusion.

“You have to hide him, in your case. If the Aurors found out about him they’d kill him. And Tina wouldn’t have a choice but to tell them, if she knew. We have to hide him and we have to help him. You can do it. You said you’ve separated an Obscurus before.”

“But the girl still died,” Newt insisted.

“But Credence is stronger. He’s survived this long, maybe he can survive the separation! We have to try.”

Jacob looked between her and the reluctant Newt as Credence groaned in pain. Gwen saw Newt make up his mind then.

“Alright,” Jacob declared, clapping his hands. “Let’s get him in the suitcase.”

Carefully, and with no small amount of levitation, Gwen, Newt, and Jacob managed to get Credence down into Newt’s workshop and onto the cot in the corner. Newt bustled around mixing up a salve of some sort while Gwen took it upon herself to gently wash the now dried blood from his hands and face. With Jacob’s help she got Credence out of his jacket and tie and Newt came back with his salve, which he spread on the numerous welts revealed when they unbuttoned his shirt. He was so pale and thin and the purple welts stood out on his skin with a plethora of green and yellow splotches from older punishments.

“Tina said she beats all of the children,” Newt murmured as his practiced hands smoothed salve gently over the injuries, like Credence was one of his creatures.

“This is—“ but the words caught in her throat. Gwen couldn’t believe someone could do this to another person, especially one they claimed as “family”.

“You said there were others?”

“Yes, two girls, I think,” Newt replied. “Would you mind stepping outside?” he asked, gesturing towards the door. “I need to check…the rest of him.”

“Oh, yes,” Gwen agreed, blushing.

“Come on, I’ll show you the creatures,” Jacob offered, holding the door open. Gwen hurried out and was amazed when she stepped out into a clear, blue sky. All around her various creatures flitted, scuttled, and even swam past her. Gwen had a decent knowledge of magical creatures from school, but there were many she didn’t even recognize.

Jacob laughed.

“What?” Gwen asked, a little indignant that he was so obviously laugh _at_ her.

“I’m sorry but, this is the first time I’ve seen you surprised by anything,” Jacob explained. “Kind of nice not to be the only one.”

He chuckled again and Gwen had to admit, he was right. This wasn’t like anything she’d seen before, and she’d grown up around magic.

“Come on, let’s go this way. Newt’s got these things called moooncalves, and they’re kind of creepy looking at first, but really nice…”

Jacob proceeded to show her around the many varied enclosures in the suitcase. Some he steered clear of, citing them as ones they should really wait for Newt to look at. Gwen caught a glimpse of the erumpent that had escaped, rolling around in a patch of mud like it was the most luxurious bath it had ever taken. Jacob took her to visit Dougal, who was watching over a nest of several occamies, including the one they’d lost.

“That one’s mine,” Jacob explained, pointing to one of the small, blue creatures. “I hatched him when Newt and I first met at the bank. You know, I want to open my own bakery. I like cooking for people. But the bank won’t give me a loan cause I don’t have no collateral.”

“I’m sorry,” Gwen replied as one of the occamies reached out and brushed her with its feathered head.

“Ah well, if they hadn’t have said no, I probably wouldn’t be here now, involved in all of this.”

He stroked his occamy a few more times before Dougal decided the babies had had enough for now and shooed them away. They continued on and Gwen met the niffler that had started it all. He was a black, platypus-like creature who sniffled over Gwen’s hair and tried to make off with one of her earrings.

“Hey, that don’t belong to you,” Jacob scoleded as he wrestled the earring out of the niffler’s paws. The little creature looked so sad for his loss that Gwen was tempted to let him keep it.

“Sorry,” Jacob apologized as he handed the earring back. “They like shiny things. A bit like my Aunt Georgie that way. Maybe that’s what I’ll start calling him,” Jacob called over his shoulder as the niffler settled back on his already rather impressive horde. The niffler merely blew him a raspberry before turning away from them and making a show of going to sleep.

They made their way back around to the workshop but when they returned, the sky had darkened and thunder clouds seemed to be rolling in.

“Oh boy, Frank’s upset,” Jacob muttered.

“Frank? The thunderbird?” Gwen remembered him from their past discussions.

“He doesn’t like strangers either; I gotta get Newt.”

Jacob hurried off, leaving Gwen to conjure up an umbrella shield as it started raining. She caught movement in the clouds overhead just as there was an ear-piercing shriek and a great bird burst free of the clouds.

He was beautiful with golden feathers that rippled like bursts of lightning and a long plummed tail that danced with the raging wind. He spotted Gwen and gave a long shriek.

“It’s alright,” Gwen replied soothingly.

Frank couldn’t seem to decide what to make of her as he eyed her with alarm, and curiosity. Gwen spotted a bucket nearby that looked to contain the remains of Frank’s breakfast. She reached in and pulled a strip of raw meat out. Frank eyed it like the baby occamy had the cockroach.

“Want some?” Gwen asked and Frank tilted his head to the side as if he was judging the quality of the item being presented.

“Come on down here,” she said, careful to keep her voice low and reassuring. “You’re fine. Come on down.”

Frank hesitantly settled on one of the tall rock formations in his enclosure. He looked down at Gwen expectantly and Gwen took what she could get. She lobbed the chuck of meat as high as she could and Frank’s razor-sharp beak darted out and snatched it from the air. He swallowed and looked down again and Gwen was ready once more with another piece.

“Well that’s certainly unprecedented,” New said as he stepped out of the workshop. The clouds began to clear and Gwen tossed once last piece.

“It’s taken me a while to earn Frank’s trust to the point where he would take food from me,” Newt commented, watching the thunderbird with the same curiosity Frank had shown Gwen. Like caretaker, like creature. Frank finished up and looked for more, but Newt laughed.

“No, you’ve had your fill.” He handed Gwen a rag for her hands.

“He’s beautiful,” Gwen said as she cleaned up. “How’s Credence?”

“Sleeping, but his injuries will heal.” Newt scuffed his toe against the ground. “To be honest, I’m a bit nervous. I don’t know if I can really help him.”

“If you can’t, who else? Nobody else would even let him live long enough to try.”

Newt shrugged. “I’ll take care of everything here.”

Gwen nodded. “I’m going to check on Credence.”

She slipped back into the workshop and found the wizard sleeping peacefully. His injuries were caked with some sort of burnt-orange paste, but at least all the blood was gone and he looked a far-cry better than when Gwen had found him in that alley. Gwen’s hand came up to absentmindedly brush a few strands of hair back from his face but as soon as she realized what she was doing she snatched her hand back and hurried back up the ladder out of the suitcase. She tried to busy herself, focusing on making sandwiches for lunch the no-maj way to waste time and keep herself occupied. When they were done, she knocked on the lid and called the boys up. Newt and Jacob were just settling down for lunch when Queenie came back.

“Hi everyone,” she called. “How was—oh. Oh dear!”

Gwen sighed. She should’ve known they wouldn’t be able to keep a secret from Queenie.

“It’s fine, he’ll be okay,” Gwen insisted. “But we can’t tell Tina. She’d have to tell the President, and you know what they’d do. Queenie,” she grabbed her friend’s hands, imploring. “He killed a no-maj. You know what the law says.”

Queenie kept looking back and forth between Gwen and the case where Newt had picked it up.

“Gwen, I can’t keep a secret from Tina,” Queenie whispered.

“Don’t,” Gwen replied. “I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking that you wait to tell her until he’s better.”

“I can take him with me,” Newt said carefully. “Back in England the laws aren’t so strict. They wouldn’t kill him, especially since the magic is not in his control.”

After the longest silence Gwen had ever heard from Queenie, she at last nodded.

“Alright, but if Tinnie asks, I have to tell her.”

“That’s fine,” Gwen agreed, sure that Tina would be away, at least for the next few days. She was, after all, leading the search for Gwen’s brother. A part of Gwen felt guilty for keeping this from Tina, but she also didn’t want to put her in a position where she had to decide whether to lie to MACUSA or help her friends. Tina couldn’t keep this from the other Aurors, or President Picquery, but turning Credence in would sign his death warrant. And that would make Tina feel just as awful.

“I’m sorry, Queenie.”

Queenie smiled. “It’s not your fault, honey. I would’ve done the same as you.”

With Queenie’s help, they made a plan for what they were going to do. Newt would make up a story about one of his creatures being ill if Tina asked. It would give him an excuse to stay a bit longer, and for him to spend extra time in the suitcase so they could watch over Credence. Gwen doubted Tina would be around much to need an explanation, but at least they had it, just in case. Hopefully, Credence would be awake soon and then they could…what? Even if what Newt said was true and Credence would go to England where they wouldn’t kill him on sight, he was still the oldest documented Obscurus, ever. He had a magical parasite borne from decades of suppressing his powers out of fear. How much longer could he control it? What if Newt couldn’t separate the Obscurus from Credence?

Gwen hadn’t really even met the wizard. He’d been unconscious for pretty much the entire time she’d been in his presence. But she couldn’t help but feel a fierce protectiveness of him. What had his life been, that he’d ended up an Obscurus, beaten half to death and left in an alley by the woman he called ‘mother’?

“You know, they’ve got almost all of MACUSA out looking for your brother,” Queenie commented, though she and Gwen both knew her somber attitude was not due to Percival’s disappearance. That she hadn’t been thinking of her brother just made her feel guilty on top of her worry.

“You know, Newt told Jacob something he really liked once.”

“What’s that?” Gwen asked.

“He said not to worry, because in his experience it means you only suffer twice.”

A snort slipped out and Gwen clamped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed. It was such an absurdly “Newt” thing to say.

“Isn’t it?” Queenie agreed. “He’s an interesting man, that Mr. Scamander. And Tinnie really likes him, oh but don’t tell her I said that. Nobody’s supposed to know.”

“My lips are locked,” Gwen promised.

The two ladies puttered about the apartment, chatting and mostly catching up with everything that had happened while Gwen was away at school. Newt disappeared back into his suitcase while Jacob seemed to have found Queenie and Tina’s modest collection of books. He was reading one book, a collection of American wizarding fairy tales, completely enraptured by the illustrations as they danced from page to page telling the story.

Nearing supper time, an owl arrived with a note from Tina that she’d be home late tonight and not to hold the meal. None of them were particularly surprised as Gwen and Queenie began preparing the meal. Gwen wasn’t particularly good at cooking charms, but she could set a table well enough. She, Queenie, and Jacob enjoyed a quiet meal together, though Gwen could’ve done with maybe less doe-eyes between Queenie and Jacob. If the law allowed relationships with no-majs, Gwen was sure she would’ve been hearing wedding bells within a week.

“So, how have you not been Obliviated yet?” she asked Jacob.

“I was supposed to be, a couple times. But the first time I hit Newt with his own suitcase. Then me and Newt went after the trumpet thingy in the middle of the night. Then Queenie saved me from the Aura guys so we could save Newt and Tina, and then I don’t know, I guess with your brother missing and this Grindelwald guy around, everyone’s too busy to care.”

“What about when everything settles down and people start caring again?”

The smile that hadn’t left Jacob’s face since Queenie returned fell. “I don’t know. Maybe I go with Newt, be his assistant or something? I just know I can’t just forget all this.”

Queenie refolded her napkin before suddenly asking if they wanted dessert. Gwen was full but Jacob eyed the miniature cakes she’d made like he hadn’t just eaten enough for two. Gwen thought that if they ever did get married, they’d be perfect. Queenie liked to cook and Jacob had a very _healthy_ appetite.

“I’ll just take something down to Newt,” Gwen said to nobody in particular as Queenie watched, enraptured as Jacob took his first forkful. Gwen piled a bit of everything on a plate and grabbed a few rolls before she knocked on the case lid and descended into Newt’s workshop. The magizoologist was just coming back in, wiping his hands on a rag.

“I brought you supper,” she said, holding up the plate.

Newt seemed surprised, possibly that anyone would think about him, which seemed altogether silly since Gwen didn’t think he was a person most people who met him could forget.

“Thank you,” he said bashfully as he took the plate. He moved to a stool by a workbench and proceeded to devour the food from the plate in his lap, since there really wasn’t any space on the bench itself. Gwen glanced over at Credence, who looked like maybe he’d received fresh salve but was otherwise unchanged.

“It’ll take time,” Newt said softly. “Even when he wakes up, it’s hard to say what state he’ll be in. We’d best make some protective arrangements.”

“Like what?”

“Protective wards to contain magic. My case is designed to keep most of it in, because of the creatures, but an Obscurus is different and Credence must be very strong to have survived so long. I plan to strengthen the wards tomorrow, but I could use a bit of help if you are interested.”

Gwen nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The next morning found Queenie and Newt being summoned to MACUSA for something quite urgently. Jacob admitted he should go back to his place to at least make sure the land lady hadn’t sold off all his things. He made the offer for Gwen to accompany him if she wanted to, but Newt made the quiet observance that perhaps someone should remain behind with his suitcase, just to look after things. He looked up through his fringe at her and Gwen felt so proud of the trust he was offering her, she didn’t even hesitate to agree. That was how she found herself sitting on the steps of Newt’s workshop with a couple of puffskeins nestled in a furry pile on her lap as she watched Frank the thunderbird twirl through the clouds, showing off for his new friend. Gwen caught a bit of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see the niffler, his paw half extended towards Gwen’s bracelet.

“Oh, for the love of Saint Peter,” Gwen huffed as she dug in her pocket and found a quarter dragot coin. “Here.”

With a quick tap, all of the dirt fell off the dragot and the copper shown like new. The niffler eyed its own reflection in the coin and decided that was indeed shiny enough as he snatched it out of her hand and scrambled to slip it into the pouch over his belly. Once the coin was away he seemed to relax as he spread out by Gwen’s foot on the bottom step. Gwen shook her head at the silly little thief when the puffskeins all seemed to wake up at once. A second later, the niffler seemed to sense something too and Frank’s clouds began to take on a grayish hue. Then Gwen felt it too. Magic was gathering inside Newt’s workshop and Gwen jumped to her feet, the puffskeins scattering as she rushed back inside. On the cot, Gwen found Credence in the throes of a nightmare. He writhed and moaned and Gwen could almost reach out and touch the magical power rippling off of him. Outside, she heard the crash of thunder.

“Shh, it’s alright,” she murmured, running her fingers over his hand and trying to channel soothing, calm energy. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you here.”

“S-sorry, mother,” Credence slurred through gritted teeth.

“She’s not here, Credence. She’s never going to hurt you again. I promise. Just calm down.” Gwen hummed a few nonsense notes and between that and the soothing energy from her own magic, eventually Credence relaxed and settled down.

“Well done, Credence,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his fevered forehead before her mind could even remind her what was and was not proper. She realized what she’d done afterwards and at least had the decency to be a bit embarrassed and grateful nobody else had been around to see it. As Credence settled into deep sleep again, Gwen couldn’t help but see him with a new respect. There had been a lot of raw, untrained power coming off him. How much of it was the Obscurus and how much was Credence? From what Gwen knew of obscurial, they tended to lash out erratically and uncontrollably, often when the host was distressed. It was a defense mechanism to save the parasite. Had the Obscurus almost lashed out at _her_ just now? She’d have to speak with Newt when he returned. Whatever had happened just now, it wasn’t good.

When Queenie, Newt, and Jacob returned that evening, it was towing a very tired-looking Tina between them. Queenie sat her down for food, despite Tina’s meager protests, and also informed her sister she would be getting at least a few hours of sleep in her own bed tonight. Tina didn’t seem to have the energy to argue with her, so she meekly ate her supper and retired early. Once Tina was in bed, Queenie explained how the Aurors had a lot of possible leads as to her brother’s whereabouts, but so far none of them had led them to where Grindelwald had hidden him. Gwen had to admit, she was more than a bit anxious. With Grindelwald being held by MACUSA, it was very unlikely Percival was getting things like food and water, wherever he is. They needed to find him soon, or else Gwen was afraid of the condition he’d be in if they eventually did.

“Newt,” Gwen called down into the suitcase. “Can I come down?”

“Of course,” Newt replied, his voice echoing a bit as if it was far away. Gwen climbed carefully down the steep stairs and found Newt sitting at his workbench, grinding some sort of ingredient. She glanced out of habit in Credence’s direction, but he was peaceful.

“Everything alright?” Newt asked, not looking up from his work.

“Credence had a…fit today.”

Newt paused, setting his mortar and pestle down.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I was able to calm him. But I think we are going to need to set up those wards sooner rather than later.”

Newt nodded. “Yes, I think that would be best. You said you were able to calm him?”

Gwen shrugged. Percival always told her not to talk too much about her ability to sense magic or her natural magical abilities. It wasn’t a secret, but the way Percival saw it, the more “tricks” you had up your sleeve, the better.

“Just some intent,” she replied. “But it seemed to help.”

“Yes well, I think it would be best to try to ease him into everything. It’s difficult to say how much he’ll remember.”

But Gwen looked around the enchanted workshop inside of a no-maj suitcase and couldn’t figure out how they could possibly “ease” Credence into any of it.

“Carefully,” Newt replied, seeming to read her thoughts as Queenie did.

When Credence finally did wake up, Newt and the others were out. Gwen had picked out a book from Newt’s modest library and was perched on the stool by the work table with Newt’s niffler snoozing on her lap. Jacob had taken to calling him Georgie, and Gwen had agreed the name suited the little creature.

It was Georgie who alerted her first. He sat up and looked curiously around the workshop, his bill in the air. A moment later, Gwen noticed a change in Credence’s breathing and she got up, dutifully prepared to help him through another night terror.

“You’re okay,” she reassured him, just as she’d done a few other times before. She took his hand, focusing on peaceful, soothing things. She expected him to settle back into his rest, but instead she looked up into wide, deep brown eyes.

She snatched her hand back.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“Please.” His voice was timid and raspy, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to use it. He laid his hand flat, his fingers twitching slightly, inviting. Tentatively, Gwen placed her hand lightly on his and focused on soothing magic.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

“I-I found you,” Gwen told him, watching his expression closely. She wasn’t sure what to do. Frankly she’d expected Newt or Queenie, or even Jacob, to be here when Credence finally woke up. Anybody else would have been able to explain things properly.

“Are you…?”

“I’m a witch.”

She waited for the expected reaction, anger, fear, some sort of reaction from the witch hunter. But Credence blinked at her, his eyes filled with…wonder?

Gwen cleared her threat and shifted awkwardly under that enthralled gaze. She couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her like that, and frankly she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She stood, brushing some stray dirt from her skirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to—“

He looked down and noticed the salve on his injuries.

“Leave that on,” Gwen scolded when he started to scratch at it. “It’s doing some good.” Which was more than she could say for herself at the moment.

Credence jerked his hands back as if shocked, murmuring another “sorry”.

“Are you hungry? I can get you some soup.”

“Yes?”

“Stay here.”

Gwen climbed the ladder and slipped out of the suitcase as quickly as possible. She waved her wand and began assembling a bland meal of broth with some plain bread before she crawled back down, careful not to spill. Credence was sitting up on his own when she returned, though his movement was stiff.

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Gwen warned, setting the assemblage on the edge of the cot. Credence eyed the broth and bread like it was a Christmas feast and Gwen had to remind him to go slowly as he ate with gusto.

“Where are we?”

“This is my friend’s workshop. He knows more about healing than I do, so he’s been looking after you.”

“It’s nice.”

Gwen looked around the workshop, and while she’d certainly call Newt’s workshop interesting, “nice” would probably not be part of her description. Credence finished the soup and bread and set the bowl aside.

“I should be getting back. My mother is probably worried where I am.”

That sparked Gwen’s temper and she grabbed the jacket Credence was already reaching for, snatching it out of his grasp.

“No, you will not,” she growled.

Credence was obviously shocked, not expecting such a vehement response. “But I—“

“That woman beat you to within an inch of your life and left you for dead in an alley where I found you. So, you will _not_ be going back there and undoing all of Newt’s and my hard work.”

“But I have to. Mr. Graves said—“

Gwen certainly wasn’t expecting to hear _that_ name.

“Mr. Graves? How do you know that name?”

Credence ducked his head, as if she was going to raise her hand against him at any second.

“He found me. He told me about a child, someone like him, but with a lot of power. I’m supposed to find it, so he can help it.”

Had her brother been looking for an obscurus as well?

“When did you see him last?”

“A few days ago, before I…”

No, it hadn’t been her brother.

“That wasn’t Mr. Graves.”

Credence looked up from his hands in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“The day before I found you, we figured out that a dark wizard was impersonating Percival Graves. The man you spoke to wasn’t him. We’re trying to find the real Mr. Graves now.”

“A dark wizard?”

“A man named Grindelwald. He wants to expose wizards and witches to no-majs, er, non-magical people. He wants to start a war.”

Credence seemed to sink into himself as he realized what she was saying, and its implications.

“But—he told me he would teach me. He _promised_.”

Gwen’s heart broke. “Credence…”

“How do you know my name?”

“My friend, Tina, she’s been watching you. She saved you once from your mother, but our law says that no-majs can’t know about magic. She had to make you forget. She couldn’t sense what I could since. My friend, Newt, he wants to help you. He wants to help you with your magic. The child with the power that Grindelwald was looking for? It’s you.”

But Credence was already shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me like he did.”

“I’m not,” Gwen insisted.

“You are! You’re not going to help me. You’re just going to make me forget again!”

Raw magic gathered around them and Gwen’s hand went to her wand as she saw Credence’s eye flicker from brown to ghostly white. The jars and various knickknacks on the shelves began rattling and a wind blew through the workshop where there shouldn’t be any.

“Credence!” Gwen shouted over the rising din. “I’ll help you, I promise!”

“ _He_ promised!” Credence growled back as the chaos rose.

“Then I _swear_ , on my magic!”

Gwen felt the surge of power, the binding settling, but none of it mattered. Slowly the wind died down and the shelves fell silent. Credence stood panting at the center of it all, his eyes fading back to their normal shade.

“You—what did you say?”

Gwen knew she was going to regret her hasty actions, but she pulled her wand out and held it out, a declaration.

“I swear on my magic I will help you, Credence. I will help you, to the best of my ability.”

The magic was already there, but it settled into the binding all at once, sending a white flare of power over the room. Credence’s hands flew up to his chest, checking for damage, but of course there wouldn’t be any.

“What did you do? A spell?”

“An oath, that I would help you, in whatever capacity that ends up being. You can trust me now. I can’t hurt you; my magic won’t allow it.”

As the gravity of her actions became realized, Credence settled once more on the cot.

“You would—why would you do that? For me?”

“Because I meant it. You don’t go making magical oaths unless you mean them. I will help you, but you have to trust me. Can you do that now?”

“Yes,” Credence replied quickly, “Of course.”

“Then trust me when I tell you, don’t try to leave this workshop. Grindelwald was right, you’re very powerful. I—I can feel it.”

And here, now, just after the Obscurus’s almost breakthrough, Gwen was amazed anybody could have missed it. Credence was a beacon of magical energy, and Grindelwald was a blind idiot for meeting him face-to-face for so long and never seeing it.”

“But that power is raw, and part of it will try to lash out, especially when you’re angry or scared. Because of that, I need you to stay here where it’s safe. Other wizards, some like Grindelwald and some not, will try to find you. We can’t let them, do you understand?”

“I think so,” Credence replied.

“Stay here until Newt and I can figure out a better place for you. Newt has some pretty interesting books.”

“What about?”

“Magical creatures, mostly.” Gwen grabbed the book she’d been reading only a moment ago and handed it to him. “Here, start with this one.”

“But what are—“

“Gwen! Gwen, where are you?”

“Merlin’s beard!” Gwen swore, scrambling for the ladder.

“Who was that?”

“Someone who definitely shouldn’t know you’re here. Coming, Tina!” Gwen clambered up the ladder, worried that if she wasn’t out soon, Tina would come in.

“Wait!” Credence called as she got to the top. “Your name is Gwen?”

“Guinevere, but my _friends_ call me Gwen.” She slipped out of the suitcase without a glance back.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

They’d found him. Not Credence, thank Isolt, Percival. When Gwen climbed out of the suitcase, Tina was there with the news. But, they wanted Gwen to come and do a confirmation, just in case. He looked awful. He’d obviously taken a beating, and nearly five days without food and water limited to what he could windlessly conjure had left him thin and emaciated. Tina warned her he was in bad shape before they entered the private room at Fontaine Magical General Hospital, but Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect.

He was awake, by some feat of sheer stubbornness, and dutifully swallowing potions with the mediwitch’s assistance when Gwen arrived. She couldn’t help herself.

“Percy!”

He nearly dropped the potion he was holding and the mediwitch managed to catch it and guide it to safety just as Gwen reached his bedside.

“Gwen,” he got out, just before she threw as much of her arm over him as she could reach with the bed.

Gwen looked him in the eye, searching for that recognition, that knowing that she hadn’t seen when Grindelwald had borne her brother’s face. Percival recognized her almost right away and smiled.

“For your twelfth birthday, Uncle Owain wanted to take you to buy a broom, but I said now because—“

“Because it’s the easiest way to get shot out of the sky,” Gwen finished, smiling at the memory of the intense argument. She’d been so angry at Percival then, but he’d stood firm as her guardian. To this day, Gwen still had never flown a broom.

“I was so worried. When your letters stopped—what happened?”

Percival glanced up at the mediwitch, who was busying herself with the potion bottles on the side table, but was clearly listening in.

“Not now,” he murmured, his hand coming up to smooth over her dark hair. “Where are you staying right now? You can’t go back to the house until the Aurors have cleared it.”

“I’m staying with Tina and Queenie. They have an _interesting_ new friend, Newt Scamander. He helped us expose G—“

“Not here,” Percival warned. “It’s best if we kept the details…confidential for now.”

Gwen nodded dutifully. She knew enough about the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to understand why discretion was necessary. Often times the details of a crime were the keys to finding the culprits.

“I’m alright, Gwen,” he murmured. “I’ll be out of here as soon as I can. But I’ve asked Tina if you can stay with her for now and she’s agreed.”

Gwen felt relieved, not because she was afraid to return to her brother’s house, but because staying with Tina and Queenie meant she could help Credence. She and Newt could come up with an excuse. Maybe Newt was teaching her about creatures.

“Make sure you rest,” Gwen warned him. “Listen to the healers.”

Percival looked amused. “Who is responsible for who?”

“Everyone knows I’m the responsible one,” Gwen retorted cheekily.

Percival’s Aurors wouldn’t believe it possible, but their stern Director of Magical Security laughed, though he winced as the motion aggravated his injuries and Gwen felt guilty.

“I should let you rest.” She stood, turning to leave but Percival reached out and took her wrist.

“Promise me something before you leave?”

Gwen paused, glancing back.

“Don’t go out alone. Take someone with you, but please, not alone. I don’t know how far this goes.”

Percival was always overly protective, but this time Gwen didn’t argue. As she looked down at her big brother, the Auror, the Ilvermorny Dueling Club Champion four years in a row, and a thin, beaten man, she couldn’t.

“Okay.”

And she bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, a rare show of public affection that he allowed.

Tina was waiting for her just outside to escort her back to the apartment.

“You’ll tell me everything?” Gwen asked as they climbed the stairs, having assured Mrs. Esposito they had no men with them.

“What I can,” Tina assured her. “To be honest, there’s still a lot we don’t know.”

She unlocked the door for Gwen.

“I have to get back to the office. Tell Queenie I’ll be home for—“

There was a great bang that resounded through the hallway from inside the apartment. Gwen and Tina whipped out their wands, Tina leading the way inside. Everything appeared as they’d left it, except there was a purple haze over everything. Gwen’s eyes roved over the mess and her heart sank as she realized the source of the purple haze. Newt’s suitcase lay partially open and upended on the living room floor.

“Not again!” Tina groaned. “Stay here and keep alert.”

“Wait, where are you—“

Gwen’s stomach dropped as Tina turned the suitcase upright and proceeded down the ladder inside.

“Oh no.”

Gwen ignored Tina’s order and raced to follow her down the ladder, praying that Newt and Credence were alright. The workshop below was full of the same haze to the point that Gwen could barely see Tina standing right beside her with her wand tip lit.

“I told you to stay up there,” Tina scowled.

“I’m not going to let you race off into Isolt knows what without any back up. Percival taught me _and_ you better than that.”

Tina huffed, but Gwen knew she was right and Tina knew it as well.

“Stay close,” she said finally and the two of them ventured out of the workshop into the full-blown maelstrom. The wind nearly threw them back inside the workshop. Gwen grabbed the door post, throwing up a shield against the driving wind and rain. She and Tina crouched behind the shield just in time to see Newt race past them, his arm shielding his face as he brandished his wand. The tempest died down enough for Gwen to lower her shield.

“Newt! What happened?”

“Still trying to figure that out right now. Excuse me!” And he raced off again as lightning split the sky and Gwen heard Frank screech from high overhead. Everything around them felt…wrong. It was no wonder Newt’s creatures were agitated.

“Stay back,” Gwen warned Tina as she stepped into Frank’s enclosure. There the storm raged as strongly as ever and Gwen peered up into the downpour, searching for the flash of gold in the clouds.

“Come on, Frank,” she called. “It’ll be okay. Come on.”

Suddenly Frank swooped low and Gwen had to dive out of the way as lightning struck the place where she had stood only moments ago.

“Gwen, what are you doing? Get out of there!” Tina shouted.

But Gwen ignored her, standing again.

“Frank, settle down. It’s okay, I promise.”

Frank swooped down and his wings flared as he came to a landing on his rock formation. He screeched down at her, shifting from foot to foot in his agitation.

“It’s alright, settle down,” Gwen repeated over and over again until the clouds began to break and the wind and rain died away. Frank drifted down, landing heavily on the ground in front of her. He towered over Gwen, easily big enough to tear her in two if he wanted to. But he didn’t. Gwen held her ground as he inched closer, waiting for him to make the first move. Slowly, he lowered his head, turning slightly so that he could see her better. Gwen brought her hand up, offering her palm. Frank looked it over before flicking his beak up, bumping her hand. A brief rush of magic zinged through her palm, up her arm, and stood her hair on end. Frank took off with a great beat of his wings and Gwen stumbled back a bit, but he only flew up to perch and preen, his earlier anxiety gone.

“Since when did _you_ handle a thunderbird?” Tina asked, once Frank was again at a safe distance.

Gwen shrugged. “I had to do _something_ while you were running around New York. I—“

“Gwen?”

Gwen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she heard the tentative voice and turned to find Credence hunched over and clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. Newt was just behind him looking decidedly worse for the wear with a tear in his shirt sleeve, caked in mud from head to toe.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Tina demanded. She stomped up to Newt, smacking him on the arm.

“Ow!” Newt protested.

“As if Jacob knowing isn’t bad enough, you brought _another_ no-maj down here? And a Second Salemer at that!”

“Newt didn’t bring Credence here,” Gwen declared, looking Tina right in the eye as the Auror spun around. “I did.”

“ _You_ did? But how did you even meet?”

“Credence was hurt,” Gwen explained. “That woman, she beat him and left him to die. I saved his life.”

“You couldn’t just take him to a no-maj hospital?”

“I could’ve, but Credence isn’t a no-maj. He’s a wizard.”

Tina’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of their sockets. Her mouth flopped open like a fish a few times but it seemed that Tina was finally rendered speechless. This went on for almost two whole minutes with neither Newt, Gwen, nor Credence willing to move a muscle. When Tina finally managed to speak, it was little more than a croak.

“But I’ve never seen him do any magic. I’ve never even felt it…”

“Credence has been suppressing his magic for fear of punishment,” Newt explained.

“Even _I_ didn’t feel it until I touched his hand,” Gwen added. “But he _is_ a wizard.”

The precise moment when Tina realized what they were saying was marked by a solemn sigh and Tina raised her wand at Credence.

Gwen jumped into action, putting herself between Tina and Credence faster than she’d ever moved before.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her wand levied at her friend for the first time outside of a practice match.

“Credence is the Obscurus. That’s what you’re saying. He killed a no-maj, Gwen. I _can’t_ let him—“

“If you raise a spell against him, Porpentina Goldstein, I swear I will have to retaliate,” Gwen said. “I promised I would help him. I _swore_.”

Tina didn’t want to. Gwen could see the conflict in the way her wand arm shook and the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t have a choice,” she whispered. “I’m an Auror—“

“Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. But now you know.” Gwen lowered her wand and drew herself up as tall as she could, planting her feet. It was a blatant line and Tina knew it. She could do what the law stated, and drag Credence before the President and Grand Court over Gwen’s dead body, or she could be their friend and help them. Tina dropped her wand and Gwen felt the tiniest sliver of hope.

“MACUSA _will_ need to be informed,” Tina said at last. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but they will be told. This can’t end well.”

“As long as it doesn’t end until Credence and Newt are in England,” Gwen replied.

Tina groaned. “I’m going to be sent back to the Wand Permit Office. Or worse, Sanitation!”

“I’m sorry,” Gwen apologized. She knew how much Tina enjoyed her job and she hated putting it in jeopardy.”

“No, you’re not,” Tina grumbled. “Come on, we have to get this cleared up before Mrs. Esposito kicks us out.”

Tina grabbed Newt’s wrist and dragged him back into the workshop, and likely out of the suitcase entirely, leaving Gwen and Credence standing awkwardly just outside of Franks’ enclosure.

“I’m sorry,” Credence said finally. “I just, needed some air and I saw the door. I didn’t know all of…this was here. It’s just—“

“Amazing,” Gwen finished.

“Yes, for someone like me. What did she say? A no-maj?”

“It means ‘no-magic’, someone who isn’t a witch or wizard. But it’s okay; this suitcase is much different from anything I’ve ever seen before, and I grew up in a magical family.”

“What are all these things?”

“They’re magical creatures. Some of them are talked about in legends and no-maj fairytales, like Frank. He’s a thunderbird.”

The creature in question seemed to realize they were talking about him and he stretched his long wingspan as Credence gazed up at him in wonder.

“He’s beautiful. I can’t believe any of this. When Mr. Graves—only…”

“Grindelwald. And we’ve found the real Mr. Graves. He’s alright.”

“Good, I’m…glad. I’m sorry.”

“For what? You were curious.”

“You told me to stay in the workshop and I disobeyed you.” He sank in on himself again, as if preparing to recoil from a punishment. It broke Gwen’s heart.”

“Credence, you don’t have to do what I tell you. You’re your own man.”

It was clear the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He was so used to living under the strict hand of his mother, he maybe didn’t even know _how_ to be his own man.

“I just don’t want to get you in trouble because of me,” he said at last.

“Trust me, I’ll get in trouble for this. It’s just a matter of time. But it’ll be worth it because hopefully, I’ll have helped you.”

“Why did you help me? Mr. Scamander, Newt, he told me how you found me and about bringing me here. You could have left me. I would’ve been okay.”

“You would’ve frozen to death and I’m not in the habit of leaving people to die in an alley, so no, I couldn’t have left you.”

Credence would not meet her gaze and Gwen huffed, frustrated.

“Well Tina knows now so it’ll only be a little while before MACUSA finds out you’re here. You should get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, we have work to do.”

The next morning, Credence was invited up into the apartment to dine with them. Since Tina knew now, there really wasn’t much point in leaving him down in Newt’s workshop. Jacob’s seat was empty, the no-maj having returned to his apartment with promises to come back to help Newt with his creatures in the afternoon. That left morning hours free for what Gwen had in mind. As they stood once more down in Newt’s case, Gwen wasn’t sure her idea was going to work, but she had to try _something_. Newt had set up a warded area in one of his unused habitats, a plain meadow with a tree and small, lily-topped pond. Gwen, Newt, and Credence stood within the wards while Queenie observed from outside, ready to help if need be.

“You have magic, Credence,” Gwen explained. “But you’ve been suppressing it for so long that it’s lashing out. Newt has dealt with something like this before, so he’s going to help you. But first, you need to learn as much control as you can.”

Credence looked, wide-eyed, between the two of them like they’d asked him to go murder a child.

“You want me to… _do magic_?”

“Yes, we’re going to teach you how. You’re a wizard, Credence,” Newt said gently, “so the magic is already there. You’ve just been suppressing it for so long. You need to learn how to control your magic.”

“And don’t worry about hurting anything,” Gwen added. “Watch.” She spun and shot a Blasting Hex right at the shield. It rippled and the hex dispersed over it, fading and leaving the shield unharmed.

“See? No magic can get out!” She stepped up to a slightly trembling Credence who had his eyes fixed on the place her hex had been stopped. Gwen supposed that was probably some of the most aggressive magic he’d ever seen. She’d been trying to prove a point, but maybe she’d been a bit too enthusiastic?

“Credence.”

His eyes shot to her.

“You’ll be fine. Here.” She held out her wand for him to take, but he was already stumbling back, shaking his head.

“I can’t,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” Gwen insisted, holding out the wand. “We’ll get you one of your own soon, but in the meantime you can use mine.”

“I can’t,” he repeated and Gwen could see him already starting to curl in on himself in preparation for his punishment.

“Gwen, let me,” Newt said. He approached Credence slowly, like he would an injured creature. Gwen didn’t understand how Newt could make himself look so small and innocuous. He was actually rather tall, and Gwen knew he was likely a powerful wizard. Just look at this spectacular case and its many inhabitants. Gwen watched as he managed to place a hand on Credence’s should and was murmuring something to him, though Gwen couldn’t hear what. After a few minutes Credence nodded and, to Gwen’s surprise, reached out and took Newt’s offered wand.

“Alright, Credence,” Newt coaxed as he took a few steps away. “When I was in school, the first spell I learned was one for levitation.” He produced a brown quill from his jacket pocket and set it on the ground in front of Credence.

“The incantation is ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa’_. Just point the wand at the feather, picture it rising, and sat the spell.

Credence raised Newt’s wand, his hand shaking badly and his knuckles impossibly white as he gripped the wood like he was intent on shattering it. He couldn’t hold the point steady.

“Wingardium Levi-osa,” he croaked. Gwen wasn’t at all surprised nothing happened.

“Try again,” Newt said, encouragingly. “Remember to think about it floating.”

“Wingardium Leviosa?” Credence said again with not a trace of confidence. Magic needed confidence almost as much as it needed intent. The two really went hand-in-hand when performing spells.

“Try this,” Gwen said, when Credence tried it a third time to no effect. She came up alongside him and gently laid her own wand hand over his. Immediately the shaking stopped as Credence tensed like a bowstring. Gwen could feel the warmth of his magic just under his skin. It could feel the magical core of the wand he held and it wanted to be used, if only Credence would tap into it. She drew on a bit of her own magic and allowed it to flow down Credence’s arm like a small surge of energy. Her grip tightened as Credence faltered.

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Credence nodded quickly.

“That’s my magic. It will feel different than yours, but it’s there. Try the spell again, but this time, I’m going to help.”

With Gwen’s hand on his, her arm pressed to his arm, Credence had never been so still. The wand tip came to bear on the feather and did not waver.

“ _Wingardium…Leviosa.”_

Gwen felt her own magic answer the call, but instead of it flooding through the wand core, it rushed towards Credence’s, intermingling before finding its way. It was like a small chunk of ice, gathered snow around it as it rolled down a mountainside. The feather flew, sailing through the air and hitting the ward, splitting into tiny pieces. Credence released his breath as Gwen let go, staring down at his own hands as if he’d never seen them before. And really, he hadn’t. Not with their full potential swirling just below the surface. For the first time since she’d met Credence, Gwen could feel his magic without having to dig, like she could for other witches and wizards. It was there, bringing a pink flush to his pale skin, illuminating him from the inside.

“I’m sorry,” Credence gasped.

“Not to worry,” Newt replied. He borrowed his wand to summon the quill pieces and a muttered ‘ _reparo’_ had it as good as new.

“Try it again,” he urged.

This time, Credence brought the wand up himself, his hand steady.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

The quill flopped over, but it still moved without any of Gwen’s help. For a split second, Gwen saw the corners of Credence’s mouth rise before settling again as he raised Newt’s wand for another attempt.

They worked for almost two hours before Queenie called, suggesting they take a break. Credence looked tired, but his eyes gleamed as he performed the spell one last time and the quill rose up to eye-level, hovering there for a few moments before descending to gently land on the ground again.

“Well done, Credence,” Newt congratulated as he accepted his wand back.

“I did it,” he said.

“In fine form too.”

“Can I learn another?” He bent to pick up the quill, but he swayed a bit and Newt, who was closest, caught his arm.

“Perhaps after you eat and rest,” Newt suggested. “Magic can use quite a lot of energy if you’re unused to a spell.”

“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” Credence admitted. “Ma always said magic was evil, but that felt…”

“Light,” Gwen finished. Warm and good, and light. That was how magic felt to her. Most magic. She had experienced certain darker spells that were different, but for the most part, magic, to her, felt light.

Credence nodded, agreeing.

“Well, magic is part of you, Credence. And magic itself isn’t evil. It’s what some try to use it for that can be evil. It’s just like any tool.”

Gwen waved her wand, bringing down the wards. Queenie was waiting with cups of hot cocoa and tea for Newt. Gwen couldn’t help but smile as she watched Credence take a hesitant sip and then a larger gulp as he realized the joys of a warm hot chocolate.

After lunch, Jacob arrived and he and Newt set about tending to Newt’s many creatures. Gwen and Credence returned to the warded area and Gwen had him start learning how to conjure water. While Newt had first learned the levitation charm, Gwen’s first spell that Percival had taught her was “ _Aguamenti”_. She’d doused him from head to foot by the end of her practice session and that had instigated a water war between the two of them with Gwen ending up completely soaked, slumped across her equally wet brother. Percival had been performing drying charms on the house for almost an hour later, but as he huffed from one end of the house to the other, muttering the drying charm under his breath, he couldn’t hide the pride in his eyes.

Jacob came to watch after a little while, amazed as he always was by magic. Gwen had set out a number of cups, buckets, and other containers and was trying to teach Credence how to regulate the amount of water he created. Credence, with his great amount of power, could create a waterfall, but he had difficulty filling a simple tea cup. Gwen could tell he was getting frustrated when he smashed the tea cup to smithereens under a jet of water and Jacob laughed from outside the ward. Credence glared at him as Gwen repaired and replaced the cup.

“Try again,” she encouraged. “Really visualize how much water you want. Magic is more about focusing your intent as saying the words.”

“ _Aguamenti.”_

This time barely a few drops fell to the ground.

“A little more.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“It’s not working.”

“You just started. With practice, you’ll get it.”

“ _Aguamenti_.”

A trickle came out and it filled the tea cup halfway. Not perfect, but certainly an improvement.

“See?”

“I’m not a very good wizard.”

“Yes, you are. I didn’t get that charm right for months. You are doing really well, and it will be easier with your own word, instead of Newt’s.”

Credence looked down at the wand in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the smoothed wood.

“What’s wrong with Newt’s wand?”

“Nothing,” Gwen replied. “It just belongs to Newt. Each wand has a magical core that is matched with a witch or wizard. You can use someone else’s wand, but it won’t work as well as a wand that is matched to you.”

“I suppose I should give this back, then,” Credence said, handing Newt’s wand to her. As he let go, Gwen could see a pang of loss and longing. Magic was light, but it could also be addicting when you first started. It was like using a muscle you didn’t know you had, flexing and testing it. You kept coming back, even when it was sore, just to remind yourself it was still there. It would be even worse for Credence, having stifled this part of himself for so long.

“You’ll be tired,” Gwen warned him as she lowered the wards. “Make sure you rest.”

“I will,” Credence agreed.

The two separated once they returned to Newt’s lab, Credence grabbing one of Newt’s books and opening to where he’d left off while Gwen climbed out of the suitcase. It was nearing suppertime, which meant Gwen was due at the hospital. Queenie escorted her, per Percival’s wishes and left her just outside his room with the promise to return in an hour.

When Gwen stepped inside and caught sight of her brother, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking back to the last few hours with Credence and knowing her brother would most definitely not approve.

“Hi, Percy,” she greeted him, grasping and squeezing his hand and placing a kiss on his rough, bearded cheek. Percival usually kept his face clean-shaven, but Gwen supposed there wasn’t much time for that when he’d been imprisoned and now that he was free, Major Investigations had yet to release his wand, citing it as “evidence”. Which really was unfortunate because as her brother squirmed in his hospital bed and his eyes darted towards every little sound, she was sure having his wand would make Percival feel better.

“I’ll talk to Tina about getting your wand back,” Gwen assured him.

“I already have,” he muttered sullenly. “They’re still analyzing it.”

“I’ll talk to her again. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Gwen didn’t believe that and she told him that with just one look down her Graves Family nose.

“I’m fine, Gwen,” he insisted. “The healers have nearly finished with my physical injuries. Healer Albright says I should be able to return home in another day.”

And yet, Gwen could see the stiffness as he reached for a glass of water. Truly, though, it wasn’t the physical injuries she was worried about. It was the way his eyes darted about, how he’d asked her about her first pet (a goldfish named Bartleby that had died within two days), how his posture was rigid and tensed, even though he was meant to be resting. Even with two Aurors outside his door, Percival didn’t feel safe enough to truly rest. Really, she couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t concerned. She’d received an owl from Hernandez today, informing her that her house had been cleared by the Cursebreakers. In a day or so she could take Percival back home, but would he be able to truly recover, or would he be jumping at every shadow?

“What did you and Queenie do today? Goldstein was in here this morning and said you two were working on some sort of project with the magizoologist?”

Gwen froze and inside her anger simmered. How dare Tina mention anything to Percival! After she’d promised not to say anything too!

“Nothing,” Gwen replied too quickly. She knew her reaction would set of Percival’s Auror warning bells, but there was little she could do about it now.

His eyes narrowed at her, like when he was thinking of how to interrogate a particularly difficult suspect.

“Gwen,” he said warningly.

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just a little side project. For…school.”

“It’s the winter break.”

“Extra credit.”

“Guinevere Graves—“

“Don’t you _dare_.”

“I am you brother and I will—“

“No!” Gwen growled, standing up and knocking over her chair in her haste. “I’m nearly graduated. I’m not a kid, and you don’t get to scold me.”

“I’m not scolding you, but I _am_ going to protect you—“

“I can protect myself.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I can! Just because you got beat doesn’t—“ Gwen slapped her hand over her mouth in horror, cutting off the words that were spewing out of her mouth with her anger. From his bed, Percival had gone from her concerned brother to the steely-eyed Director of Magical Security.

“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself involved in, but I’m well aware of Newt Scamander and his reputation. Whatever it is stops right now, do you understand me?”

Of course she did. But Credence needed her and she’d made an oath.

“I can’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“I promise, I’m not doing anything that puts myself in danger,” much, “but I can’t stop it. You’ll have to live with that.”

Percival studied her, but Gwen learned at the knee of one of MACUSA’s best Aurors and she returned his same cold, blank expression. Finally he spoke, but it was not a response Gwen was expecting to hear.

“I expect you to use good judgment and to obey the law.”

“Of course.”

“And whatever it is you feel the need to keep secret from _me_ , I expect to be informed of when there is no need for it to be a secret.”

‘If Credence is found or Newt is successful,’ Gwen promised silently, nodding.

“I should get going. Hernandez says the house is cleared, and if you’re going to be leaving the hospital in a day, I have some work to do.”

“Gwen, nothing illegal.”

Gwen sighed, exasperated. “Percival, you might see me as some sort of ‘rebellious teenager’ but I am still _your_ sister.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he muttered, more to himself than to Gwen.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Queenie met her just outside the private room. She read her thoughts immediately.

“I’m sorry Tina said something,” she apologized immediately.

“She promised she wouldn’t, and not _my brother_ , is suspicious of us. He’s leaving the hospital in one day and then he’ll be all over me, trying to find out what out ‘secret project’ is. You know how he gets.”

“Well, Credence is doing better now, right? Maybe it’s time Newt goes to release Frank?”

What she said was true. Credence had shown his renewed strength today, practicing magic. He could travel with Newt, Jacob, and Queenie, and from there Newt would take him back to England where he could hopefully separate the Obscurus. At least getting Credence out of New York City would go a long way in keeping her brother out of this mess. Because as soon as her brother got involved, the jig was up. He wouldn’t be prevailed upon by friendship, family ties, or guilty reminders. He was Director of Magical Security, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and President Picquery’s right-hand man. He had been the harsh wand of the law for most of his career as one of MACUSA’s most decorated Aurors. He wouldn’t see Credence as a hurt, scared young wizard. He would see Credence as an Obscurial, a threat to the Statute of Secrecy. A threat to the well-being of wizarding kind.

“You and Newt should start making your plans tonight,” Gwen said, though the thought of sending Credence off pained her more than she expected. She tamped that down immediately. It would be ridiculous to get maudlin about Credence’s departure. She’d saved his life, fully aware that he wouldn’t be able to stay in the long run.

“Can you take me to Percival’s house? I want to start getting it cleaned up for his discharge.”

“Okay, honey,” Queenie agreed. Gwen knew she’d heard every thought that had run through her head, including the ridiculous ones. Sometimes, if she thought you needed it, Queenie pushed those suppressed thoughts into the conversation. But other times, like now, she just let them go and for that Gwen was grateful. The last thing she wanted to talk about right now was her subconscious desire for Credence to stay with her. She took Queenie’s hand and allowed herself to be Side-Along apparated outside a familiar townhome.

The house where she and Percival lived wasn’t the house where they’d grown up. Neither had been able to stay there after their parents’ deaths. It was a modest townhome set in the middle of a no-maj neighborhood that Percival had bought just after he’d joined MACUSA. Most wizards wouldn’t expect an Auror, particularly one of Percival’s stature within MACUSA, to live in the middle of a non-magical community. Percival had wanted to put up all sorts of anti-no-maj wards and glamours, so on and so forth, but eight year-old Gwen had talked him out of it, insisting she needed _someone_ other than her big brother to play with. Even though witches weren’t supposed to interact with no-majs beyond the daily necessities, Gwen had ignored her brother’s warnings and had been a staple in the street ball games. Percival had settled for some slightly above-average protection wards and the usual anti-apparation ward. Gwen and Queenie instead had to apparate to the nearby apparition point and walk down the street. They dodged the neighborhood kids playing baseball and riding bikes and greeted the mothers as they hung the wash out to dry.

“Gwen, is that you? Good gracious, you’ve grown!”

Gwen smiled up at the neighbor, Mrs. McCarthy, who’d watched her a number of times over the years when Percival had been late from work.

“Back from school for the holidays,” Gwen replied.

“And where’s Percival been recently? I haven’t seen him around much.”

Mrs. McCarthy, of course, didn’t know Gwen and her brother were magical. But she did know that Percival worked for some sort of government agency that he didn’t like to talk about too much, but certainly explained the long and odd hours he kept.

“He’s been busy with an investigation is all.”

Mrs. McCarthy huffed, flapping out the trousers she was airing for good measure.

“They work him too hard. Coming and going at all hours of the day and night. And I’m sure that boy is not getting proper meals either.” Gwen smiled as Mrs. McCarthy’s soft Irish lilt became more pronounced with her concern.

“I’ll make sure he eats properly,” Gwen assured her. “Good evening, Mrs. McCarthy.”

“Take care, Gwen.”

She and Queenie nodded politely and continued on to the next house down that, unlike the others on the street, sat completely dark. Gwen glanced up and down the street to make sure nobody was paying attention before she pulled out her wand and unlocked the wards. She and Queenie slipped inside and closed the door before lighting the house with a flick of their wands.

The place wasn’t in shambles. The Aurors had enough sense not to trash their own boss’s home during the investigation and search. But things weren’t where they were supposed to be. A pile of books on a chair instead of in the bookcase, a chair angled the wrong way, or a chest moved. Gwen would have to go room to room and fix it all before Percival returned. Some objects had been taken for evidence. Hernandez had provided her a list. Most of them were Percival’s things that Grindelwald had handled or used in some way, shape, or form. Gwen’s cauldron, though, had been taken, as well as a number of her brewing stores. Grindelwald had used them to brew the Polyjuice Potion he needed to continuously take to impersonate her brother. Gwen thought, after the investigation, she would just ask them to dispose of those.

As Gwen passed into the kitchen to take stock of the food she would have to buy, she was greeted by an impatient tapping on the back window and was surprise to see her brother’s great horned owl, Uther, perched on the ledge they’d made for him and looking perturbed. She hurried to open the window and let the owl in out of the cold. Uther hopped inside, perching on the back of a kitchen chair, and set straight to work preening as if he hadn’t been locked outside for at least the last few days. Gwen suspected it was likely longer. Uther, like his master, was protective and war of strangers. A Polyjuice Potion wouldn’t fool a familiar. Grindelwald had probably gotten bit trying to get Percival’s correspondence off the bird and eventually had just resorted to locking him out. Sure enough, as Gwen moved to check over her brother’s familiar for injuries, she saw a battered letter still tied to the owl’s leg. Uther held his leg out for Gwen to take the letter, but he watched her until she set the letter down on the table unopened. Only Percival would be permitted to open the correspondence without having his hands ripped to shreds. Gwen couldn’t help but feel proud that at least one thing of her brother’s hadn’t been compromised by the imposter.

“Excelled work, Uther. Thank you.”

Uther bobbed his head once in response before he proceeded to snatch up the owl treats Gwen scattered across the table as his reward.

“I should be getting back,” Queenie said.

Gwen nodded. “Don’t worry about my trunk. I’ll come and get it in the morning.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got it.” Queenie produced the shrunken trunk from her pocket, returning it to its normal size. Trust Queenie to know what was going on before you even did.

“I’m still going to come by,” Gwen insisted. “To say goodbye to Credence and Newt.”

Queenie nodded her understanding. “You can stop in at any time.” In the morning, or in the middle of the night if it becomes too much.

“Thank you.” For everything.

Queenie left, the front door clicking behind her and the wards engaging again. Gwen was left in the quiet house with just Uther for company. The modest townhome had never felt too small or too large for her and Percival before, but standing in the kitchen with the entire house to herself, Gwen couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Percival felt after Gwen went back to Ilvermorny each term. If so, she didn’t blame him for spending more time at work. The house felt so very big when you’re standing in it all alone.

Gwen climbed the narrow stairs to were the bedrooms are. She doesn’t even peek inside Percival’s room. She’ll have to wait for the light of day to face what was in there. Thankfully, her room is mostly untouched. Most of her personal things had been with her at school. The only pieces she’d left behind were tucked away in the wardrobe. Grindelwald had obviously assumed the second bedroom had been a guest room or some such thing because he had certainly been surprised and unprepared when Gwen had showed up in her brother’s office. Gwen waved her wand and the old wooden rocking chair that had been moved beside the door returned to its place by the window. Gwen had the back room, so her window looked down into the modest garden that abutted Mrs. McCarthy’s more rambunctious yard with various children’s toys scattered about. Mrs. McCarthy had children older than Gwen and still more younger ones running around. The normalcy of seeing the toys down in the yard made her smile. She turned away, set her trunk on the floor, and with a sweep of her wand, her personal items floated out of the trunk to repopulate the room, lining up in their proper places on shelves and in drawers. With her things settling back into place, the room was beginning to look more familiar. She changed into a set of pajamas and settled in for her first night back in her own bed. But it would be a difficult one.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

The next morning found Gwen with circles under her eyes from tossing and turning. Some of the dreams had been about Grindelwald. She’d awoken to one in particular of him standing over her, smiling that manic smirk and taunting her with her brother’s death. After that she had barely dozed off again before her mind turned to Credence. She dreamed Percival found him and all of MACUSA came together to destroy him in a great torrent of fire. With both Credence and Grindelwald on her mind, sleep would elude her as Gwen decided 4 am was as good a time as any to start putting things back in place. She started in the sitting room downstairs and went room by room methodically. Any furniture she used her wand, but most of it she did by hand. It took longer, but that was perfect for Gwen, who wanted to waste time until the market was open. She really didn’t have any food in the house; either Grindelwald sustained himself on pure magical energy, or he ate a lot of take out. Whatever the truth, Gwen would have to go buy food before she could even make breakfast for herself.

As she wandered down the street to the no-maj market where she liked to buy her food supplies, Gwen couldn’t help but feel utterly alone. The no-majs went about their days like always, the only hint of the mayhem that had befallen the magical community a brief article in the newspaper titled “Gas Explosions Rock Manhattan”. There was to be an inquiry into the city’s infrastructure, but of course nothing would come of it and the people would be reassured that all was well in their fine city. MACUSA would monitor the inquiry and modify any memories as was necessary. With the creatures recovered and the Obscurus found (though MACUSA didn’t know that last part), all would return to normal. At least for the no-majs.

For Wizarding kind, there was still a long road ahead, beginning most likely with a trial of Grindelwald and possibly extradition. Gwen knew she sure didn’t want him here, in their city, though perhaps it was better that MACUSA kept him in custody. The British Ministry of Magic obviously couldn’t do their job in holding him, since he’d already escaped them once before.

Gwen was lost in her thoughts and didn’t notice the ball that dropped right in front of her, bouncing to a stop against her leg.

“Hey Missus!” one of the boys called.

Gwen broke away from her thoughts and kicked the ball back with a smile.

“Thanks!” the boy called over his shoulder, running the ball back to his game.

“Witches are among us! Look around you, friends! See their evil ways at work!”

Gwen froze, her hand going inside her coat to her wand, but she didn’t draw it. As she looked to the corner where the crowd was gathering, she very nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy right then and there. Because standing on a wooden box, looking out over the crowd imploringly, stood Credence’s would-be murderer. There she stood, exactly as Gwen remembered her. She was flanked by a younger woman and a little girl who were handing out leaflets to the growing assembly. In the meantime, the cruel woman preached on and on about the “witch scourge”, urging those gathered to be vigilant, to see the “devil’s work” around them. Gwen found herself drawn in among the crowd, her anger steadily growing at each vicious word the preacher woman spewed. In her mind she kept seeing Credence, lying broken in the alley. Credence, hunched over, expecting a beating for merely doing as he wanted to. Credence, so scared of the magic that was part of him that it was eating him alive. It was all because of her. Gwen wanted to tear the flesh from her bones and burn her like she urged these people to do to people like Gwen.

“Gwen?”

She nearly drew her wand as a hand fell on her shoulder. But she stopped herself just in time to see Jacob, looking concerned. He looked at her hand, shoved deep inside her coat and over at the Second Salemers who had continued their hateful tirade.

“Let’s get out of here,” he urged, tucking her arm in his and leading her away. Once out of earshot, the thrall seemed to break and Gwen came back to herself.

“Jacob? What are you doing here?”

“My apartment is just a few blocks that way,” he replied with a shrug. “What were you doing, listening to that…”

“I was on my way to the market,” she replied, gesturing to the basket in her hand. “I don’t know what came over me. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. You live around here?”

“Just north,” Gwen replied, gesturing back the way she’d come.

“Huh! What’re the odds? Mind if I give you some company?”

Gwen shrugged. “Free country,” she replied, but inwardly she was grateful. Something hadn’t been right about that Second Salemer lady, and Gwen didn’t want to have to walk by her again alone.

The two of them strolled down to the market together and Jacob accompanied Gwen as she shopped for all the things she’d need to make a few decent meals once Percy returned home. Jacob watched with fascination as she pilled loaves of bread, wrapped meats, and all manner of other items into the modest basket.

“How’re you doing that?” he asked after they’d stepped away from one of the vendors.

“Extension charm, and a featherlight charm, woven into the wicker,” Gwen explained.

“You guys really have it all figured out, don’t you.”

“If that was true, Credence wouldn’t be living out of Newt’s suitcase,” Gwen replied softly.

They lapsed into silence as Gwen finished the last of her purchases.

“How’s your brother doing?” Jacob asked as they walked back from the market. He held his own bag of items for his pastries, which Gwen had generously cast the charms on as well to the point that he had to remind himself not to swing the bag too much or risk cracking his eggs.

“He should be coming home soon,” Gwen replied, though I don’t know how long before he returns to work. Could take a while, if the healers convince him.

Jacob shook his head. “I just can’t hardly believe any of it,” he admitted. “How about the kid?”

“Credence is awake. We worked on some simple spells yesterday. And he’s not a kid,” Gwen added, flushing a bit. She was silly to say it as soon as the words were past her lips. Jacob didn’t mean anything by it. But it seemed he didn’t notice her rudeness.

“Really? Is that the best idea, with his…”

He made a vague, round gesture over his own chest that Gwen assumed was meant to be the Obscurus.

“Giving Credence even a small amount of control takes it away from the Obscurus. We just have to be cautious.” At least, that’s what Newt said.

“It’s crazy to think about him having one of those things _inside_ him. What if Newt can’t fix him? What happens then?”

“He’ll remove the Obscurus,” Gwen said firmly. “Newt is a very good wizard,” if a little hare-brained, “and he cares about people,” not just his creatures.

“It would kill him, wouldn’t it?”

Obviously Jacob wasn’t going to let it go.

“Yes!” Gwen snapped. “Yes, if Newt can’t remove Credence’s Obscurus, it will eventually overpower what control he has, wreak havoc, probably expose magic to a few thousand no-majs, and eventually consume him until all the Aurors could do would be destroy it!”

Her outburst drew some attention from the others out on the street. Gwen gripped her wand in her jacket and jabbed it at a few of the closer ones, muttering a memory spell until everyone shook their heads and continued on, believing they’d just witnessed a lover’s spat and nothing more.

Jacob watched it all with his mouth flopped open like a trout until Gwen released her wand again and continued on.

“I’m sorry,” Jacob apologized, hurrying to catch up to her now brisk pace. “I know he means a lot to you and—“

“Stop,” Gwen hissed, careful to keep her voice low this time. “He means the same to me as he does to Newt and Queenie, and even Tina. But I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure Credence has the chance he should’ve had all along, even if it means it’s not here in New York.”

The words ached, but they were true. If MACUSA tried to get rid of Credence, Gwen would smuggle him out in Newt’s suitcase herself, if she needed to, right under her own brother’s nose.

“I would help,” Jacob said at last. “You, Newt, and the girls have saved my butt a bunch of times, even if it is Newt’s fault most of the time. Anything you need, I’m right there. Okay?”

Gwen studied the no-maj, but all she found was open sincerity, and that itself made her feel like a jerk. Jacob had been nothing but awed and accepting of everything he’d seen. And he was a loyal friend to boot. Gwen couldn’t see herself ever Obliviating him.

“Queenie picked a good man, Mr. Kowalski.”

“Queenie?”

Gwen laughed at his confusion. “You can’t honestly believe she looks at every guy the way she looks at you. She likes you, more than I’ve ever seen her with any guy.”

Jacob’s mouth flopped open like that trout again as he sputtered over the revelation.

“She—but I—and you think—she…likes me?”

“Yup,” Gwen nodded. “Don’t need to be a Legilimens to know that. Don’t you like her?”

“Yes!”

“Then you should tell her. Queenie won’t start anything, she’s too used to giving folks their privacy.”

“She probably already knows, don’t she?”

“She _is_ Queenie. Unless you suddenly became a world-class Occlumens, she’s gonna know everything before you do.”

They’d arrived back at Gwen’s house, Jacob so lost in the conversation that he hadn’t split off at his street. Gwen knew better than to try to bring a no-maj into the warded house, especially a man with Mrs. McCarthy peeling potatoes on her front step just next door as she watched her younger boys play in the street.

Jacob finally seemed to realize they’d stopped and looked up at the townhome that looked just the same as any of the other townhomes on the block.

“This your place?”

Gwen nodded.

“Huh, it looks so…normal,” Jacob commented, looking over the brownstone. “It’s nice.”

“Except any no-maj who approaches the front step will get confused and suddenly need to go down to Central Park for a walk.”

“So I shouldn’t walk you to the door, is what you’re saying.”

“Unless you want to walk Central Park for the next few hours.”

“I think I’ll wait until next time. You have a good day, Gwen.”

“You too, Jacob. And remember what I said.”

“How could I forget?” He turned and began walking back up the street.

“Good morning, Mrs. McCarthy,” Gwen called to the woman, who was looking after Jacob with intense interest.

“Good morning, Gwen. Who was that?”

“Just a friend of Queenie’s.”

“Not a gentleman caller or anything, right? Mr. Graves certainly would have my head if I let you wander around with an older man on your own.”

“He’s not _my_ ‘gentleman caller’, Mrs. McCarthy. Just a good friend.”

“How old are you now, Gwen?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Seventeen, hm? You know, my Colin just turned twenty and he’s got a good job down at that bank a few blocks away. You remember him?”

Gwen of course remembered the black-haired, blue-eyed boy who would always try to scold her for being a girl and playing ball instead of sitting with the other girls and playing dolls. She hadn’t seen him since the summer about four years ago, but that certainly wasn’t a bad thing, in Gwen’s opinion.

“Of course, but if you’ll excuse me, I want to get a start on the cooking before Percival gets home.”

“Meat and potatoes, for that one,” Mrs. McCarthy called after her, waving her peeling knife. Gwen had never dismantled the wards faster. As she set the basket down and let he purchases find their own way into the cupboards and cold box, she couldn’t help but imagine Percival’s face if she suddenly announced she was interested in Colin McCarthy. He just might explode, and then Gwen would be in for a lecture about the law against no-maj fraternization. Not that Gwen wasn’t bending that law already, associating with Jacob and Mrs. McCarthy.

When her shopping basket was empty, Gwen tucked it away in the hall closet and busied herself tidying up a bit before she could no longer put off the last room in the house. Percival’s room, across the hall from hers, looked out to the street so not only could he see anyone at the door, but also down the street in either direction. As Gwen pushed open the door, the first thing she noticed was that the blind was down and the curtains pulled shut. Percival never shut the curtains. It defeated the purpose of having the front bedroom. A simple Notice-me-not Charm was enough to give him privacy without impeding his watch. That was the first thing Gwen fixed and as the sunlight streamed into the previously dim room, it threw into sharp relief just how bare it was. Percival wasn’t one for sentimental things (that was always Gwen), but he did have a photo of their mother and father on the mantle over the small fireplace in his room. He also had his Ilvermorny diploma as well as his Auror certification, two of his proudest achievements. Most of what filled Percival’s room had been his books. Many would not think the Director of Magical Security would be much for reading, but Percival was determined to know as much as he could. There were books about History, and both Wizarding and no-maj law. There were books on healing, spell creation, dark arts, magical creatures, mental arts, and just about every branch of magic most could think of, and a few many couldn’t. He’d even had a book about no-maj mechanical engines.

Except most of them were gone. Gwen really wasn’t sure how many of them the Aurors had taken for the investigation and how many had already been missing, but the gaps along the bookshelves stood out like holes in the walls themselves. The ones that remained were tipped over and out of order. Gwen picked up a Herbology book that propped up a book on no-maj steam engines and returned it to its place with the Potions books and a title on no-maj herblore. One by one, she re-ordered what remained of Percival’s library until it had returned to some semblance of what it had been. The empty spaces were scars on the collection, but Gwen had little doubt when Percival returned he would set about mending it all, beginning with getting as much as he could back from his own Aurors.

It took much of the rest of the morning to sort Percival’s room out. Gwen only used a cleaning spell or two, but the rest of it she did by hand. She burned the sheets and got fresh ones from the hall closet. It was dramatic of her, but at least it made her feel better, so she didn’t feel any guilt about wasting a set of seemingly good sheets. She prepared herself a quick meal and then rummaged through her trunk for her Floo powder stash from school. Grindelwald, the bastard that he was, used up all their Floo powder and didn’t bother replacing it before his deception was revealed. She threw a pinch in the living room fireplace and stepped in, shouting “The Goldsteins’ Apartment”.

When she came out the other side, Newt and Queenie were nowhere to be seen, but Newt’s case sat out in the middle of the floor so it wasn’t difficult to figure out where they were. Newt’s workshop was empty too as she descended the ladder. She greeted Frank the Thunderbird and a few other creatures, but even then there didn’t seem to be so many creatures roaming around. The hairs stood up on the back of Gwen’s neck, the years of instruction she’d received from her brother telling her that something just wasn’t quite right. She took her wand out of her coat as she passed by the other enclosures, to the last one where Gwen immediately knew there was trouble. The wards were up, shining as a golden barrier dome around the enclosure. They should be invisible, unless there was a direct need to keep dark magic in.

“Oh no!” Gwen ran to the barrier, stopping just short. Inside, Newt was crouched over an unconscious Queenie and at the center of the destruction, stood Credence. Gwen watched in horror as he looked, white-eyed and unblinking in her direction and suddenly a twisting cloud of dark magic lashed out, writhing and beating against the wards that, thank Isolt, held. Newt seemed to disappear in the tumult and Gwen’s heart stopped until the Obscurus retreated to beat against another section and Newt and Queenie reappeared, Newt’s shield charm flickering.

“Newt!” Gwen wasn’t sure if her voice _could_ be heard through the ward, but thankfully Newt turned and spotted her. He twisted, grabbing Queenie and pulling her to the edge of the ward.

“Take her.” His words were garbled, like he was trying to speak through a thick glass pane, but Gwen understood just in time for the ward to lift a fraction at the base and Gwen grabbed Queenie’s hand and pulled her out. The next second, the ward slammed down again, just as the Obscurus lashed out. Newt dived to the side and Gwen stumbled back, the dark magic screeching in anger at being thwarted.

Gwen crouched over her friend, relieved to see her breathing.

“Queenie, can you hear me?” She shook her gently and Queenie’s eyes fluttered open.

“Gwennie?” She blinked a few times before suddenly she gasped and jerked upright.

“Credence! He lost control. Newt!”

They turned to see Newt dive out of the way again. He seemed to be trying to talk to Credence, but the Obscurus raged and it was all Newt could do to stay out of the way as it pounded against the wards. One particular hit had the bright gold wall flickering, though it just managed to hold.

“He’s too strong. He’ll break the wards if this keeps up,” Gwen said, wincing as Newt hit the ground hard. “And he’ll kill Newt.”

“You need to try to get through to him, Gwen,” Queenie said. “He feels safe with you. You can help him get control again.”

“I can’t even get _in_ there! And he won’t hear me through the wards.”

They both started as the wards flickered again. If anyone was going to do anything it would have to be soon.

“Here,” Gwen handed Queenie her wand. “When I say, lift the ward, just enough. As soon as I’m through, close it and keep it going as long as you can.”

“You can’t go in without a wand!” Queenie protested.

“I have to. You can hold the ward long enough for me to get through.”

Gwen crouched by the base of the ward, cursing her decision to wear a skirt today. Of course, when she’d dressed she hadn’t been planning on rolling under magical wards and trying to talk down a rampaging Obscurial. She took a deep breath, trying to think of what she might say, but nothing came to her.

“Now!”

The wards rose and Gwen slipped through, stumbling to her feet just as the golden wall slammed down behind her. Inside the ward, the air was thick and crackled with power. Gwen felt it like the moment before lightning struck, a promise of power, and pain. The Obscurus didn’t seem to notice her presence, too busy trying to catch Newt who was Apparating with the help of Queenie’s wand. Newt’s wand was nowhere to be seen, but likely it had been in Credence’s hand when he lost control.

“Credence!”

The Obscurus expanded and Gwen had to duck to avoid it.

“Credence!” she called again. “Credence, you have to get control. I know you can. Focus, like you did for the spells. You are stronger than it, Credence, and I know you don’t want it to hurt Newt or me.”

The Obscurus jumped to the top of the wards, then down to the ground, but as it gathered at the center, Gwen could see it folding in on itself, growing smaller bit by bit.

“That’s it, Credence. You are strong and you _can_ control it. Focus Credence! You don’t want to hurt anyone. I know you don’t.”

The Obscurus lashed out again, but by now it had been slowly congealing into the shape of a man, crouched down on the scorched earth. Slowly, Gwen rose to her feet, tentatively moving away from the ward. With each step she took, she repeated her reassurance over and over.

“You’re strong, Credence. That’s it, you can control it. You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Over and over as the Obscurus fought, but Credence slowly reigned it in. Gwen could see his eyes now, still white but Gwen could tell, despite it all, Credence was regaining control.

“Keep going. You’re doing so well. You can do it.”

At last, the Obscurus broke, sinking back into the kneeling form. Gwen was only a few steps away by then as Credence blinked and his eyes were brown once more.

“Gwen,” he groaned, a moment before he collapsed.

Gwen’s hesitancy disappeared as she closed the distance between them, Newt just behind her. The wards flickered and then turned transparent again and Queenie joined them.

“His magic is depleted,” Gwen told them as she took Credence’s hand. She could barely feel a fraction of the power he’d just displayed. Credence had managed to bury the Obscurus deep inside and all Gwen could feel was what strength he had left from that Herculean effort.

“He’ll have to rest,” Newt said, his hands checking Credence’s pulse and breathing. He pulled back an eye lid, but the eye beyond was unresponsive.

“I’m sorry,” Queenie said from behind them. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but he was hurting so much.”

Gwen turned swiftly. “What did you tell him?” she demanded.

“He asked about his sister, Modesty. Tina said she was still with the Second Salemers. I didn’t think it would upset him so much.”

“Modesty?” And Gwen thought back to her own run-in with the Second Salemers just earlier that day. She’d overlooked the little girl at the time, too enraged by the woman who was spewing hate like she threw fists at Credence, but now she remembered the blond girl who surely couldn’t be more than nine or ten. And Gwen could see Credence looked out for her, maybe even taking the blame for some transgression so that his younger sister didn’t take the punishment. That was something Credence would do, and he’d be devastated to know that she was still there, but without his protection.

Suddenly Credence’s break through seemed to make sense, but it couldn’t be risked again.

“We have to get her away from there,” Gwen said.

“Credence may be a wizard, but the girl is very plainly a Muggle,” Newt replied. “We can’t bring her here. It’s too dangerous.”

“And Tina would string us up with the laundry if we told another Second Salemer _and_ no-maj about magic,” Gwen added. “And then she’d go to my brother.”

But Queenie was thoughtful. “I think I have an idea,” she said at last. “But I gotta call in a few favors.”

They were suddenly interrupted by a loud thumping, someone knocking repeatedly on the suitcase.

“Coming!” Gwen called.

Newt conjured a stretcher and they brought Credence back to the workshop where he was once more laid on the cot to rest. Newt stayed behind to check on his creatures while Queenie and Gwen climbed the steep stairway back into the apartment. Both of them were dirty and grass-stained and Queenie’s stockings were torn. Gwen expected Tina to be the one knocking, but instead she found her brother’s owl, Uther, pecking at the worn leather. He stuck his leg out at her as Gwen clambered out and she pulled a rolled up note out of the case. The note was empty at first, but after a moment words began to appear.

‘ _Ms. Graves, you are requested to sign for the release of your brother, Percival Graves, from the medical care of Fontaine Magical General.’_

“They’re releasing Mr. Graves? Oh how wonderful,” Queenie said. “You should go right away. Here, use the Floo.”

But Gwen found herself caught, not wanting to leave Credence. It was Queenie who decided her mind for her, as she was sometimes wont to do.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Newt will take care of Credence. Your brother needs you more right now. I’ll owl if anything comes up.” And she threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace.

“Fontaine General,” Gwen said as she stepped inside and the Floo whisked her away.

She arrived in the receiving room of the hospital and walked up to the receptionist.

“I’m Guinevere Graves, here to release Percival Graves,” she told the medi-witch.

“Thank goodness,” the medi-witch said. “I thought I might have to call the Aurors on the Director of Magical Security! Here’s the paperwork.” She shoved a stack of parchment and a fountain pen across the desk and Gwen eyed the mess with weariness. Even a _magical_ hospital still had mountains of paperwork.

“Donnie, go get Mr. Graves,” the medi-witch told one of the passing orderlies. “He’s being released.”

“Thank Isolt!” the orderly muttered as he passed into the main hospital.

“What did my brother do?” Gwen asked, as she scrawled her name again and again.

“He has his Aurors interrogating the hospital staff, and poor Betsy this morning came out in tears after delivering his breakfast but she won’t say what happened. You’ll have your hands full, but then I guess you already know what he’s like.”

Only the person the medi-witch was describing didn’t sound like her brother at all. Making nurses cry? Something was wrong, but hopefully Gwen could figure it out with her brother home again.

“He’s not to do magic for two more days,” the medi-witch instructed as Gwen signed the last parchment. “Bed rest, lots of fluids, and bland foods the rest of the week. If he has no trouble with those, he can start with small portions of some other things. He is not to return to work until next week.”

“Alright,” Gwen agreed, just as she heard her brother’s annoyed growl from the other side of the door.

“I can walk from here,” he said just as the doors opened. Percival staggered out and Gwen caught his arm to balance him, but knew better than to try to get him to lean on her. A moment later, Percival stood upright and gave her a small nod that he was fine.

“Thank you for your care,” he said to the medi-witch and Donnie the Orderly.

“Our pleasure, Mr. Graves,” the medi-witch replied. “I’ve told your sister about the healer’s instructions.”

Percival grimaced, but nodded. He wasn’t going to tell her, Gwen realized. He straightened the shirt that had obviously been transfigured for him in an attempt to clean himself up a bit, but the shirt was ill-fitting and his hair fell around his brow, no product to maintain his normal style. Gwen took off her scarf and transfigured it into a black winter jacket for him that was long enough to hide the borrowed clothes. Together they stepped out of the hospital, the door disappearing into a flat brick wall on the side of a no-maj hospital. Percival held out his arm to escort her and Gwen dutifully took it, though she was careful not to put any sort of weight on it. They moved to the nearby Apparation point and Gwen Apparated the two of them to their street. They walked, arm-in-arm, as the streetlights cane on around them and the mothers, Mrs. McCarthy included, called for the children to come in. She gaped at Percival as they approached their house.

“Mr. Graves, you look like they’ve run you through a mill! Gwen said they were working you hard, but there’s a certain point!”

“Thank you for your concern, Mrs. McCarthy, but I’m quite alright. Just in need of some rest.”

Mrs. McCarthy didn’t believe him a second, but the reason she’d made them a good neighbor through the years is that she knew when not to press.”

“Well, alright. Just give a shout if you need anything. Oh, and Mr. Graves, when you have some time there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you over coffee.”

“I will let you know when my schedule allows. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Graves, Gwen.”

She shepherded the last of her flock inside as Gwen dismantled the ward. She stepped inside but Percival hesitated at the door, his eyes sweeping over the street and down the dark entrance hall of the house. Gwen turned on the lights with a flick of her wand and he seemed to at last be able to bring himself to enter.

“The Aurors took quite a few things,” Gwen warned him as they moved from room to room. “But I put what was left back in order.”

“I’ll have to talk to Hernandez,” Percival said as his eyes swept the house, not missing a detail. Gwen pointedly ignored his heightened caution as she moved into the kitchen to start preparing the meal. The healers had said bland foods, so Gwen figured some broth and a bit of chicken and bread would do. As her wand sent ingredients and cooking implements flying around the room, she listened to her brother’s quiet footsteps moving around the first floor before climbing the stairs with a few pauses along the way. He stopped at her bedroom, but didn’t go in and eventually continued on to his own room. He’d returned by the time Gwen was ladling the broth into bowls, dressed in his own clothes and looking more his usual self. His hair had been combed and although he wore a simple shirt with the sleeves folded up and pair of simple brown trousers, Gwen had no doubt his brother had returned. He tried to help, but Gwen slapped his hand away.

“No, sit. I can take care of this just fine.”

“I’m not an _invalid_ ,” he retorted.

“And neither am I. _Sit_.”

Percival sighed but took his usual seat at the kitchen table as the plates and bowls floated to the table. He didn’t seem particularly interested in the plain fare, but he knew better than to complain about Gwen’s cooking.

They ate in quiet for a moment before Gwen spoke.

“You should find an excuse to not go to coffee with Mrs. McCarthy,” she said.

“Why?” Percival asked warily.

“Because I’m fairly certain she wants to fix me up with her son, Colin.”

“A no-maj? Absolutely not!”

“I didn’t _suggest_ it,” Gwen retorted. “I’m just telling you what she’s going to want to talk about. She asked me my age earlier today and mentioned Colin had a job at the no-maj bank.”

“This is why there is not supposed to be any fraternization with the no-majs. It’ll be all over the city, regardless of what I say.”

“But you wouldn’t _agree_ , right?”

“Even if Colin McCarthy was a wizard, I wouldn’t give him my permission. He’s not good enough for you. Nobody is.”

Gwen laughed. “You don’t expect me to be a spinster!”

“That’s exactly what I expect. Even Merlin reborn wouldn’t be good enough for my baby sister.”

“I’m seventeen, not a baby anymore.”

Percival looked at her across the table with some sort of strange expression. “But still, no boys, or men. Your poor brother isn’t ready for that.”

“No need to worry,” Gwen assured him, though she couldn’t help thinking of Credence in that moment. What would her brother think of him, if he knew?

“So are you ready to tell me what you wouldn’t in the hospital?”

Gwen choked on her spoonful of broth.

“No,” she wheezed, taking a gulp of her water to clear her throat.

“I _do_ expect you’re going to tell me eventually, Gwen,” he said sternly.

“Nothing illegal,” Gwen assured him, though privately she admitted her definitions of “legal” and “illegal” had been shifting the last week or so.

Percival hummed in response, which Gwen took for acquiescence instead of the more likely disapproval. She did feel bad about keeping this secret from her brother, whom she’d never kept a secret from before, but she knew, like she’d known with Tina, that it was better this way regardless of how much Percival disagreed.

Gwen agreed to allow Percival to clean up from supper, though she sternly reminded him no wandless magic and helped with the cleaning charms when necessary. The two of them retired to the living room where they stoked the fire against the winter chill and Gwen told Percival of her last semester in Ilvermorny, all of the things that had been in her letters that he’d never received. As Gwen told her jokes and misadventures, she watched some of her brother’s wariness slid away. He even chuckled a few times and brought up _his_ old Ilvermorny stories. By the time they climbed the stairs for bed, both were exhausted, but Gwen slept contented that night that her brother had returned at last.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The next day, Gwen woke to find Percival already up and fixing breakfast by hand. Bacon crackled on the skillet alongside a set of bright white and yellow eggs.

“ _Bland_ food?”

Percival shot her a raised eyebrow and a grunt of dismissal as he passed the eggs and bacon to two plates where they were joined by slices of toast and fruit. They sat down and Gwen noticed Percival ate slowly, relishing each sweet and savory bite.

“I haven’t had real food since before…”

He trailed off, his eyes looking unblinkingly out the kitchen window.

“Percival?”

He blinked, confused for a moment before he realized that not only was Gwen sitting with him at the table, but she’d called his name.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “Just a bit tired.”

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me about what happened, but you know you can, when you want to.”

“It’s not an easy story.”

“I know. But if you want to tell it, I can handle it. I’m stronger than you think I am.”

Percival gave her one of his rare smiles and reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

“I doubt you could be. Tina told me you were the one to expose Grindelwald, and you helped in his capture.”

“It was Newt and Tina more,” Gwen insisted. “I was just a distraction.”

“I’ve read the report.”

“You aren’t supposed to be working!” Gwen scolded.

“I read the report because I wanted to.”

“Is that the _only_ reason?”

“Yes. But even if it wasn’t, I don’t have to defend myself.”

Gwen huffed. “Well then, far be it from me to care about my brother’s well-being.”

Percival sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, Gwen.”

But she still shrugged, banishing what was left of her breakfast as she grabbed her coat.

“I’m off to Queenie’s.”

“Gwen.”

“Whatever you do, just promise me you’ll take it easy.”

“Wait, let me take you—“

But Gwen was out the door and Percival was left staring at his own breakfast.

When Gwen arrived at Queenie’s, the sisters were just finishing their own meal and, to her surprise, Credence sat at the end of the table, idly pushing around some potatoes.

“Good morning,” she announced as she came in. Credence started, knocking his cup of milk off the table. He ducked his head, refusing to make eye contact as he bent down to mop it up. Queenie exchanged a pointed look with Gwen, clearly encouraging her to talk to him.

“Credence?”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” Gwen insisted as she watched him struggle with the stain. With a wave of her wand, the mess was cleared but Credence still stared at the floor, still refusing to look at Gwen.

Sighing, she moved around the table, placing her hands gently on his arm. He jerked back so violently, it was as if Gwen had pressed a hot iron to his skin. But she didn’t pull back, instead firmly taking his hand.

“Credence, it’s okay.”

But he shook his head. “No, I hurt you.”

“You hurt _me_? What are you talking about? It’s just a bit of milk!”

But it wasn’t in Credence’s mind.

“I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can. You _did_.”

Neither realized Tina and Queenie had slipped out of the room to give them some privacy.

“You _controlled_ it.”

“I lost control. I could _feel_ its anger. It wanted to kill you. Newt, Queenie, all of you. And I couldn’t stop it. You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. Nobody should. I should go.”

He jerked to his feet but Gwen refused to release his hand.

“No. You should be right here. If you go, Newt, Queenie, and I won’t be there to help you the next time it happens.”

Credence let out a small, strangled cry but he didn’t pull away from Gwen as she slowly stepped closer.

“You’re doing well, Credence. You just had a setback yesterday. But my brother told me that is the time to push even harder. When you don’t think you can do it.”

She didn’t even realize what she was doing until she wrapped her arms around him and found her head leaning against the rough wool of his shirt. He was stiff as if someone had hit him with a Petrificus Totalus, but he didn’t pull away and neither did Gwen. They stood there awkwardly for half a beat until slowly Credence’s arms came up and wrapped around her waist.

It could very well have been the first hug Credence had ever received, as he didn’t really seem to know what to do except not to pull away. They stood there in Queenie and Tina’s kitchen for an unknown amount of time, but neither moved away.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

Gwen jumped back as Jacob walked in the front door unannounced, coming to a very specific conclusion. Credence looked almost pained as she pulled away.

“Jacob, what are you doing here?”

“I thought me and Queenie could uh…”

“I’d love to,” Queenie told him, sweeping in from the bedroom. She shot a knowing smile Gwen’s way which Gwen pointedly ignored because it was absolutely ridiculous. Queenie’s jacket floated from its hook to wrap around her.

“Ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. Here let me…” He grabbed the door for her and gave Gwen and Credence one last glance before following her out. A moment later, Tina came bursting through muttering something about paperwork before she tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace and was gone. Credence turned reluctantly to head back into Newt’s suitcase when Gwen stopped him.

“Let’s go out.”

Credence looked at her as if she’d just declared the sky was magenta. He hadn’t been truly outside in weeks, it seemed. Newt’s case did a good job at making the environments _feel_ real, but they were still just magic. It wasn’t quite the same.

“What about the…”

“We’ll go together. I’ll be with you, just in case. If we need to leave, I’ll Apparate us away from the city.”

“But you said the wizard cops, the Aurors—“

“We’re not going anywhere near MACUSA. Just a little time out won’t hurt. And I think you could use it.”

Credence’s glance towards the window that held just the faintest hint of longing sealed the deal for her. She looked over his drab clothes and the suit jacket that too small for him and much too light for the weather.

“Hold on.” She pulled out her wand and waved it over the jacket, transfiguring it into a long, dark green coat, not unlike something she’d seen her brother wear before.

“We should get you some other clothes,” she murmured.

“These are fine,” Credence insisted.

“No they’re not, they’re run ragged and they’re boring. You’re a wizard, you should look the part.”

Credence smoothed over the green coat and Gwen could tell he liked it, though he seemed reluctant to admit it.

“Ma said fancy clothes distract us from our work.”

“Well she’s wrong. If anything, I do my _best_ work when I’m wearing nice clothes. It gives you confidence.” She pulled her coin purse from her pocket and did a quick tally. She didn’t have much, but it would be enough.

“We’re going to the department store,” Gwen declared.

The two of them walked down the street, side by side and Gwen immediately knew the outing was a good idea. Credence had grown-up in New York, but as they walked down the street, he seemed to be seeing everything anew. Gwen slipped her arm through his and he didn’t seem to mind as she steered them. Credence was just happy to be out in the sun and the faintest smile turned his lips.

“This way,” Gwen said, after they’d walked a couple of blocks. She steered him down a small alley and Credence looked confused.

“Where are we going?”

“The store I want to go to is uptown. It’s too far to walk, so we’re going to Apparate.”

“We’re going to what?”

“I’m going to use magic to move us from one place to another in an instant.”

Credence didn’t seem to understand.

“Just grip my arm tightly and when count to three, take a deep breath. It can be a bit jarring the first time.”

It was a testament to how far they’d come from that very first meeting that Credence took Gwen’s arm without further questions, gripping it firmly.

“On three. One, two, three!”

She pivoted and felt the brief squeeze of Apparation before they landed again, now in a completely different part of the city. At her side, Credence groaned, doubling over and coughing violently. Gwen didn’t let him go, rubbing a soothing hand over his back and adding a bit of calming Intent to it.

“That happens to most people the first time,” she reassured him. “But it will pass and you’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know that I want to do that again,” Credence choked, but eventually the coughs subsided and he straightened up, taking deep breaths.

“Better?”

He nodded, straightening his green jacket. “Where are we?” he asked, looking around at the unfamiliar part of the city. Gwen had Apparated to an Apparation point in a different alley, just across the street from their destination.

“We’re at Smithwick’s.” She gestured across the street to a no-maj department store grandly proclaiming “Barney’s”. Credence looked confused, but he went along with her as Gwen stepped up to the doorman.

“Good morning, Charlie,” she said to the rather short man.

“Good morning to you also, Miss Graves. Where to?”

“The men’s department, please?”

“Certainly.”

Charlie turned around and traced some sort of symbol with his finger on the door that shimmered golden for just a moment before sinking in.

“Enjoy your visit to Smithwick’s,” he said, with a sweeping gesture.

“Thank you.” Gwen breezed through the spinning door, Credence stumbling just behind her. Credence had never been inside a department store in his life, but he imagined the non-magical ones didn’t look like this one. Witches and wizards passed every which way as packages soared high overhead and short creatures scurried about with armfuls of clothes, shoes, and everything else to buy. Credence didn’t know where to look first, whether to the tall mannequins dressed in sweeping robes of every color that shifted from pose to pose, or to the tape measures that seemed to prowl the store on the lookout for a potential fitting. Fortunately, Gwen knew precisely where to go and Credence only had to follow her. Easier said than done. She led him deep into the men’s department to a circular desk where stood a man even shorter than Charlie the Doorman. He barely reached Credence’s waist, though he was dressed impeccably in a 5-piece suit in dark purple pinstripe. He spotted them right away and as he looked over Credence’s attire, he made no attempt to conceal his disdain.

“You’re obviously here for my help,” he said in a rather nasally voice. “Lawrence,” he held out his hand for Credence to shake, “Mr…?”

“Fischer,” Gwen provided and Lawrence seemed even more interested now.

“ _Really_?” Gwen nodded with a wink and Lawrence suddenly seemed like Christmas had come early.

“Well then, Mr. Fischer, right this way!”

They followed Lawrence but Credence hung back to stay with Gwen.

“Why did you give him a different name?” he asked lowly, not that Lawrence would’ve heard him over the prattling the salesman was currently keeping up.

“Because I didn’t want to risk someone connecting you to the Second Salemers. ‘Barebone’ isn’t a name that is well-thought-of in Wizarding society.”

“Fischer?”

“One of the Original Twelve, the first Aurors of MACUSA. That name will open more than a few doors.”

“But I don’t want to lie.”

“Trust me, this is better.”

“Alright, let’s see,” Lawrence said as they arrived in a private fitting area. He looked Credence up and down, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Yes, the green is a good color on you. And some stone grays, maybe. No yellow, definitely not.”

“We’re looking for something that can blend in with the no-majs,” Gwen reminded Lawrence as he reached for a long robe. Lawrence sighed dramatically, but his hand instead reached for a more appropriate suit.

“Bah, all you New York wizards are all alike! Everyone wants to fit in these days,” he bemoaned as he pulled other items. “No flare anymore.”

He help up a striped orange vest, wrinkled his nose and flung it away. One of the short creatures appeared with a soft _pop!_ to catch it and was gone the next instant. Gwen chuckled as Credence watched the place it had just appeared to see if it would return.

“House-elves,” she murmured in his ear.

“Are they…?”

“They’re not servants. That would be impossible, with all these clothes everywhere! They choose to work here.”

He seemed extremely relieved to hear it and when Lawrence flung a strange paisley tie, he tried to smile at the house-elf that retrieved it. Except the creature was gone the next instant.

“Alright, time to try some things out.”

Lawrence whistled and one of the tape measures slithered in from the aisle. Credence nearly jumped out of his skin when it wrapped itself around his chest.

“My apologies, sir,” Lawrence said, giving the tape measure a glare as it looped around Credence’s waist. “They can be a bit _overenthusiastic_.”

The tape measure wiggled its end, like was wagging its tongue at the salesman before continuing to measure down Credence’s leg. It measured just about every part of him before Lawrence finally declared enough. He made a shooing motion and the tape measure, which had been trying to measure the circumference of Credence’s head, reluctantly moved away.

“Your items are in the fitting room,” Lawrence said, gesturing to the door that opened. “We’ll be here.” He waved over a couch that situated itself just behind Gwen. She sat down, smoothing out her dress and giving Credence a reassuring smile. Once the door was closed, Lawrence sank down beside Gwen, smiling broadly.

“So, Miss Graves, a Fischer, hm?”

“He’s a friend of mine, Lawrence,” Gwen replied.

“Aw, just a friend?”

“Just a friend.”

“That’s too bad. He’s certainly a cool drink of water. And those intense brown eyes. You simply _have_ to do something about that haircut though. Take him to Mr. Graves’ barber; he always is so fashion forward.”

The thought of taking Credence to Percival’s barber wasn’t a bad one, but it would be like walking Credence into the middle of the Woolworth Building. The barber was one of Percival’s best informants.

“I expect your discretion, Lawrence. You know how protective Percival is.”

“So he _is_ a suitor!”

“No.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

The door to the fitting room opened and Gwen would not have believed the same man stepped out if it wasn’t for Credence’s stark haircut. He wore a sleek, slate gray suit with a matching vest and forest green tie. The jacket hugged the line of his torso and the lapels seemed to make his chest seem broader, stronger, even with Credence’s hunched posture.

“Well, we’re definitely on the right track,” Lawrence declared, shooting Gwen a smug grin. She blinked, having forgotten he was even there.

He sent Credence back in to try on a blue suit, and then something charcoal. Each time he came out, Gwen saw Credence’s confidence growing as Lawrence showered him in praises. Gwen was, uncharacteristically quiet, but by the end Credence still had a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

At last they finished and Credence chose a charcoal suit with the same green tie he’d tried on first. They also bought a coat, hat, and matching scarf. Gwen expected to clean out her purse, but when Lawrence gave her a sum only half the dragots that were expected, Gwen thanked him.

“Please, come back soon,” he called.

As Credence stepped out in his new clothes, Gwen was surprised when he offered her his arm and warmth bubbled up in her stomach as they strolled a few blocks further uptown to Central Park.

“I’ve never been here before,” Credence admitted as they picked up a walking path. There were a few others in the park; some children playing in the snow or skating on a pond, a few other couples strolling in the brisk air. Gwen smiled politely to those they passed who greeted them and Credence echoed her pleasantries.

“I’m glad we went out,” Credence said suddenly.

Gwen smiled. “Me too.”

“You, Newt, and Queenie have all been so kind to me. I won’t ever be able to repay you.”

“We don’t expect you to.”

“But I feel like I should, somehow.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Gwen told him firmly. “The best thing you can do for us is to continue practicing magic. Keep trying. We all believe in you.”

“But what if that thing—“

“The Obscurus.”

“What if the Obscurus gets out again?”

“You _can_ control it. I watched you do it. And Newt is working on a way to separate it from your magic. But it’s going to be hard. You need as much control as you can get before Newt can try to do that. That’s why it’s so important we keep practicing.”

“So Newt could…fix me?”

“He might be able to. It’s not a very well-studied branch of magic. Obscurials aren’t as common as they once were. But Newt’s done it before. I believe he can do it again.”

Gwen felt like she was reassuring herself more than Credence.

“In the meantime, though, we’ll keep practicing. And you can practice with Newt and Queenie when they go to Arizona to release Frank.”

“The thunderbird,” Credence added, remembering when Gwen had told him about the creature.

“Right. But before then, we need to get you a wand. I’ll talk to Newt and Queenie, see what we can do.”

Credence was surprised to feel excitement at the prospect of getting a wand. A _real_ wand. Two months ago, he wouldn’t have dared to even think of one, but when Mr. Gra—Grindelwald, had approached him and told him all about magic, he’d dreamed of having one and then had felt guilt for his sin. But now, as he walked arm in arm through Central Park with a _witch_ , he felt only anxious anticipation, a desire to find out what _his_ wand would feel like in his hand. To do magic with a wand that was matched to him and him alone. What Modesty would say if she was to see him now!

As soon as the thought of his little sister, who was still with his mother at the church, crossed his mind, his mood plummeted.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked, confused by the sudden shift.

But Credence shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he told her, not wanting to spoil Gwen’s afternoon. But it seemed he already had as she stopped and looked up, forcing him to meet her searching blue eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she repeated gently.

“I was just thinking of my sister, Modesty.”

Gwen seemed to understand right away. “You miss her.”

Credence nodded. “And I’m…worried about her.”

He surprised himself. He’d never admitted anything like that before, to anyone; that he worried for his sister when she was with their mother, afraid she would accidentally do something to draw their mother’s wrath. Credence was the least-favored, but now that he wasn’t there, would his mother turn on Modesty? What if she did something wrong? She never could, in Credence’s mind, but Mary Lou Barebone was strict and Modesty was just a little girl who didn’t understand and made mistakes. And Credence wasn’t there to accept the blame for them.

“You shouldn’t worry,” Gwen said at last. “Queenie is working on helping your sister. And when Queenie puts her mind to something, it will happen.”

“But they’ll put her in a home! She can’t go there. She won’t be able to survive in one of those.”

“That won’t happen,” Gwen assured him. “We will make sure she’s well taken care of, and that she’s in a good place. I promise.”

“She won’t just let her leave.”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, we’re witches. We’re really good at doing things without the no-majs noticing.”

Credence didn’t seem convinced as he looked down at his foot, but he conceded and they continued on their walk. Eventually it began to get late and the cold seeped in despite the warming charms Gwen cast. They circled back around to a nearby Apparation point and returned to Queenie and Tina’s.

When they walked in, both Queenie and Tina froze mid-motion. Queenie shot Gwen a knowing look as she admired the figure Credence cut.

“My, don’t you look dashing, honey,” she teased, brushing off a few snowflakes that lingered on his jacket.

“Thank you,” Credence murmured, his cheeks tinging red with embarrassment.

“You look like a proper wizard now, doesn’t he Tinnie?”

“He sure does,” Tina replied, finally looking away as she busied herself gathering items for the meal. “Are you going to be joining us for dinner?”

Credence shucked his jacket, carefully hanging it with the others by the door. Gwen watched his hands linger just a moment longer on the fine material and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d been able to give him something special, even it if was so small.

“I have to be going,” she said.

“Where?” Credence asked abruptly.

“My home. My brother will be wondering where I am, and the fewer questions _he_ asks, the better.”

Credence seemed confused, but he nodded and plodded across the room, quietly offering Tina his help. She agreed and the two of them set about preparing the food.

“I was talking to New today,” Queenie told Gwen. “He would like to leave in two days for Arizona.”

“So soon?”

“Frank is getting restless, and the longer he stays the bigger the chance someone is going to find Credence.”

“Right.” Like Percival. “I suppose it will be for the best.”

“Newt is going to speak to Credence about it tonight, after their practice session.”

“Before you go, we need to get him a wand, but I don’t know how we’re going to do that. The Headmistress would never open the wand hall for us.”

“Let Tinnie and I think of something.”

“I’d like to come along.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be here,” Gwen promised. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Gwennie.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

When she returned, Percival was reading in the sitting room and he looked up immediately.

“You’ve been gone all day.”

“I’ve been helping Queenie.”

“All day long?”

“Yes.”

Percival grunted, snapping his book shut and setting it on the table.

“I don’t like this sneaking around, Guinevere.”

Gwen tensed at the use of her full name and she struggled to push down her annoyance at his tone as she shed her coat.

“I’m not ‘sneaking around’, _Percival_.”

“Yet you refuse to tell me what in Isolt Sayre’s name is keeping you out from morning until evening. You _say_ it’s nothing wrong, but I can only assume since you refuse to tell me what it is, it’s something that I would be opposed to. And then I learn from _Mrs. McCarthy_ that you were escorted home by a strange man while I was in the hospital. So, I’m going to ask you once more and I expect a full and truthful response, what are you doing?”

Gwen’s annoyance flared into anger as she clenched her fists and fought with the desire to tell her big brother to go stick his head in the toilet. The compulsion of her oath to help Credence kept her from saying anything. Telling her brother the whole truth most certainly would _not_ help Credence at this time. Telling the Director of Magical Security about him would seal his fate.

“I certainly will _not_ ,” Gwen replied firmly.

“Then you are forbidden from leaving the house.”

“I am not a child anymore. You can’t keep me here.”

“I am your brother—“

“Exactly! You’re not my father and I’m an adult. I don’t have to do as you say.”

“Who is this man?”

“Nobody of your concern.”

“ _Guinevere_!”

Percival shot up, his book being knocked off the table and landing with a heavy thump on the floor. He strode across the room, grabbing her arm. “I will not have you traipsing across this city like some common _whore_!”

His words shattered the cloud of her anger and Gwen couldn’t believe what she’d heard. A jolt of her anger and hurt shot down her arm and Percival released her, snatching his hand back from the sting with wide realization and horror.

“Gwen, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Percival Graves,” she said, her tone frigid and her eyes two spears of ice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“You can stay here alone and rot,” Gwen told him, stomping up the stairs to retrieve some of her things. She waved her wand a bit too strongly and a few of her dressed and personal items threw themselves across the room, hitting the bottom of her trunk with dull thumps. Percival was still standing frozen in the living room when she returned, throwing a whole handful of Floo powder in the fireplace.

“ _Goodnight_ , Percival,” she spat before she stepped into the fireplace and was gone.

She didn’t go straight to Tina and Queenie. She didn’t want them to see her like this, angry with eyes red from holding back tears. Instead, she had the stupid idea to return to The Blind Pig, where she’d had her first drink and her first fight. As she stood outside the entrance, she scrubbed the tears from her eyes and took a moment to banish the soot from her dress. The bar was quiet that night as she entered. There was just a house-elf playing the piano and a handful of other patrons, regulars most likely. Gwen kept her head down and purposefully didn’t make eye contact with the goblin owner who sat in the corner overseeing things, but she had little doubt he knew she was there. He didn’t say anything, however, nor did he have his boys toss her back out into the cold immediately, so Gwen took that as a good sign as she sat down at the bar.

“We don’t want no more trouble here,” the house-elf barkeep warned.

“I’m not here to cause trouble, just to drink,” Gwen replied.

The house-elf laughed. “Well in that case, what’s your poison tonight, doll-face?”

“Surprise me.”

“Comin’ up.”

A few minutes later he sat a short glass of something that steamed in front of her. Gwen threw it back and the taste was worse than the time she’d experimented with Polyjuice potion to get a date to the winter ball. But the drink burned its way down her throat and settled warmly in her gut, which was a bit better than the bitter nausea that had been there before.

“That all you have?”

“Baby doll, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Gwen lost track of how many drinks she had. The barkeep just kept them coming, never telling her what it was. Some she threw back from tiny glasses while others she nursed. She was quickly floating as she sat at the bar, but anything was better than the hurt and betrayal of her idiot brother. With her head fuzzy and her belly warm, she didn’t even come to think about stupid Percival.

“What else you got?” Gwen giggled and hiccupped, almost tipping off the barstool.

“Bar’s closing, sweetheart,” the house-elf, whom Gwen had learned earlier was called Vinnie, informed her.

“Aw c’mon, just one more.”

“No can do. You got someone to Apparate you?”

“I’m fine. I can do it myself, thank you very much,” Gwen slurred. She turned to go but the floor heaved and she had to grip the bar to keep upright. “Hey! Stop moving!” she scolded the smooth, wooden slats.

“Okay, if you try to Apparate you’ll splinch yourself across Manhattan.” Vinnie sighed, grabbing her wrist. “Where you going?”

“Queenie’s. I don’t want to go home.”

“Alright, just think of the place. You got it?”

“Yessir, Mister Vinnie, sir,” Gwen giggled.

“Ah, Christ. Here goes nothin’.”

With a pop, they Apparated and Gwen found herself standing in Queenie’s living room, which was odd because she was pretty sure there was no Apparating in the Goldstein’s building.

“This the place?” Vinnie asked.

“Gwen?”

Gwen spun, knocking over a nearby lamp and nearly taking Vinnie’s head off with her wand arm. Credence stood in his shirttails, a glass of water in his hand.

“You know this dame?” Vinnie asked.

“Y-Yes,” Credence stuttered, though he was uncertain as he watched Gwen giggle at the broken lamp and twirl again. Vinnie ducked once more, cursing.

“She’s yours then,” he declared and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

“Credence!” Gwen exclaimed, giggling still. “I had the greatest time. Well, not the beginning, but Vinnie makes such nice drinks, and he really understands me, you know?”

“Gwen? Have you been…drinking?”

“Well of course I’ve been drinking!” Gwen exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. A spark of magic flew out of her wand, still in hand, and left a scorch mark on the kitchen wall.

“You’re a wizard now, you should too. Let’s go get a drink.”

She started to pivot, preparing to Apparate, but Credence plucked her wand from her hand in the nick of time.

“We should stay here, instead. Here.” He handed her the water he’d gotten up to retrieve and took her elbow, gently steering her down onto the couch that had been transfigured into a bed for him. Gwen seemed content to allow him to move her and even snuggled up a bit under his chin as they sat down.

“You’re really quite handsome.”

Credence stiffened at the sudden declaration. “Gwen, you’ve been drinking, you don’t mean that.”

“No I do!” she insisted, pressing in closer. “I thought you were handsome when you were still sleeping, but I didn’t say anything because that would’ve been too forward. But I don’t care. You’re handsome, especially in your suit.”

Credence was at a loss. Nobody had ever called _him_ handsome. Credence knew he was thin and is mother had always declared women a temptation. She would have exploded if she were to see him now, wearing wizarding clothes with a drunk witch half-sprawled across his lap.

“I don’t want you to go to Arizona.”

It was such a quiet, sleep-slurred statement, but Credence heard it and he was torn. Gwen had been nothing but encouraging and supportive and she’d told him earlier today that it was important he go to Arizona with Newt, to leave the city before he was discovered. Newt had spoken at length with him that evening about his travel plans. He knew he should go with Newt because Newt was the only one who could help him get rid of the monster inside him. But if it meant losing Gwen and Modesty, could he do it?

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize Gwen had fallen asleep against his chest. Gently, he set her water cup on the nearby table and tried to ease her off of him and onto the bed, but her grip on his shirt was strong and he had no choice but to settle with her. As Credence lay there with Gwen tucked under his chin, he knew he couldn’t leave New York yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Percival Graves was ashamed. He was a despicable man, there was no other way about it. To call his own _sister_ such horrible things, even in anger. He was no better than Grindelwald. The whole situation worried him, though. Gwen, his sweet, understanding, kind, and loving sister, had never kept anything from him before. Never. She trusted him implicitly, and he trusted her. Or at least, he believed he did. But it was hard. Percival could trust nothing and no one right now. An urgent owl message had been enough to get him away from MACUSA and out to a secluded old warehouse down by the river. It had been all too easy for Grindelwald to hit him from behind. He hadn’t brought back-up.

And then he’d stayed, imprisoned in a trunk with only Grindelwald’s visits. He was kept in the dark, except for when Grindelwald came to take hair or fingernails, anything he wanted for his Polyjuice Potion. The sudden light blinded him when the Aurors had at last found him, still in the same warehouse by the river. He’d lost all track of time and hadn’t realized it’d been so long since Grindelwald had last come.

Nobody had noticed the duplicity. Nobody except his sweet, understanding, kind, and loving sister. She’d exposed the imposter, and even the _thought_ of Gwen facing Grindelwald had his heart racing and his hand reaching for his wand. A wand he still didn’t have, as they were still holding it for evidence, despite his demands of its return.

Cooped up in the house, weak from his deprivation and wandless, Percival Graves had never felt more vulnerable. Every creak of the house, every shout of the children outside, set his frayed nerves on edge. And sleep was elusive. All he could see was Grindelwald’s sneering face with his ghostly skin and the strange mismatched eyes. His chilling gaze, never showing an ounce of regret or remorse, zealous with his cause.

He couldn’t let that man hurt him, or Gwen, ever again, and even though the dark wizard was in MACUSA’s most heightened secured cell, Percival wasn’t safe. His colleagues couldn’t recognize an imposter, how could they hope to detain the world’s most dangerous dark wizard?

That Gwen disappeared for hours and refused to tell him why only broke his frayed control. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t keep her safe if she wasn’t home. And who was the man Mrs. McCarthy had gossiped about during their coffee. What’s to say he wasn’t a compatriot of Grindelwald? A loyal follower eager to hurt the witch who’d exposed his leader? When Percival had asked Gwen to travel with someone, he’d meant Tina or Queenie, or even one of his Aurors like Hernandez. Not a stranger.

He’d blown up and the days of anxiety and sleeplessness had burst forth in the foulest way possible. And Percival Graves was ashamed. As the first light of the new day dawned, he resolved to fix it. He didn’t have a wand, but Gwen had likely gone to the Goldstein sister’s apartment and he knew they were connected to the Floo network. He’d go and apologize, bed her forgiveness and swear on his magic he’d never say anything like that to her ever again. Then, perhaps, his sister might forgive him.

So Percival dressed in one of his remaining suits and took a pinch of Floo powder, throwing it into the dying embers of the fire.

“The Goldstein’s Apartment,” he declared and the Floo Network spun him away to dump him in the Goldstein’s fireplace. To his shock, he found his sister, sleeping in the arms of a man, and suddenly Mrs. McCarthy’s words boomed in his head.

“What the hell is this?” he thundered.

Gwen and the strange man jumped up, startled awake. A half second later, Tina and Queenie burst into the living room, wands at the ready.

“Mr. Graves,” Tina said and then realized she was wearing nothing but her nightgown and dashed back into the bedroom to grab robes for her and her sister.

“Percy, what are you doing here?” Gwen stammered. Her secret paramour seemed to be frozen in shock as he looked at Percival with fear, as well he should.

“Is _this_ why you’ve been sneaking off?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Mr. Graves, I promise we can explain—“

“Not a word, Goldstein. You’ve heading for a desk job as it is,” he snapped and the Auror clamped her mouth shut. He turned on the strange man.

“Have you been sleeping with my sister?”

But the boy couldn’t do anything but stare and gape.

“Credence, why don’t you go see if Newt needs help?” Gwen suggested, nudging the boy towards the battered suitcase that sat in the middle of the floor. That seemed to snap him out of it as he scurried down into the suitcase and Percival’s hand itched for his wand as it clapped shut.

“I wasn’t finished with him!”

Gwen huffed. “There’s nothing you need to say to him in this state, and Credence has been through enough. Now, would you stop jumping to wild conclusions and let me explain?”

“You were sleeping in his arms, Guinevere, I think that’s all the explanation I need.”

“No, it’s not. Credence took care of me last night when I arrived drunk. He didn’t do any of what you _think_ he did, and even if he had, it’s really none of your business.”

“It most certainly is!”

“No, it’s not. Now sit down and stop your shouting. My head is pounding. Tina, do you have any headache potion? Maybe a Pepper-up?

“I’ll just get that,” Tina replied, dashing back into her room. She was back a moment later and Gwen downed the potion, grateful for its quick effects.

“Now, Credence has been here, recuperating. Like _you_ , he is a victim of Grindelwald.”

“Grindelwald? How do you know he’s not a follower?”

“Because Credence didn’t know he was a wizard until I found him and told him. Grindelwald, as _you_ , tried to use him.”

Percival was even more confused. A grown man who didn’t know he was a wizard? And what could Grindelwald possibly want with him?

“Queenie, I could use a cup of coffee,” he said at last. “One for Gwen too.”

“I don’t like—“

“Trust me. Nothing is better after a night of drinking, and I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while. Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out this time.”

When the whole fantastic story was out, Percival almost couldn’t believe that so much could have gone wrong to the point they found themselves in the place they were. Percival knew of the New Salem Philanthropic Society. It had been on his watch list before he’d been abducted. He, like everyone else, had never expected they had a wizard in their midst, and it was unfortunate what had happened to the boy. But by the end of the story, two things were clear. Credence Barebone was a lethal Obscurial that needed to be dealt with immediately. But Gwen, his little sister, would do everything in her power to keep that from happening. “Nothing illegal,” his ass!

When Gwen finally finished, she sat back in her chair, searching his expression for some hint of what he was thinking.

“Would you please call Credence back up here?” he asked her calmly.

“Are you going to kill him?”

“No, but he does need to be removed to a warded facility, for the safety of everyone.”

“He’s not dangerous,” Gwen insisted. “He can control it.”

“The truth of the matter is that Credence _doesn’t_ have control over his Obscurus, based on what you’ve told me, and he can’t, no matter how powerful he is. But you said Mr. Scamander believes he can separate the Obscurus?”

“He’s done it before. That’s why we’ve been teaching Credence, to try to give him more control.”

“It was foolish of all of you to think you could handle this on your own. And what’s more, you swore a magically binding oath you can’t possibly keep. I’m disappointed that I seem to have taught you so poorly.”

Gwen hung her head as he stood up, handing his empty mug to the so far quiet Queenie.

“With all due respect, Mr. Graves,” she said softly, “Gwen is really good with Credence. She saved me and helped him get control again. I think this _is_ the best place for him.”

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be the judge of that, Ms. Goldstein. Call him up.”

Queenie inclined her head before crossing to the suitcase and rapped it lightly. A few moment later, both Newt and Credence emerged, Newt purposefully placing himself between Credence and Percival. Credence, for his part, seemed to have lost any confidence and wouldn’t meet Percival’s eye.

“Mr. Barebone, I understand you may have a skewed opinion of me, but I am not Gellert Grindelwald and it is unfortunate that your introduction to the magical world came through one of our greatest terrorists. I understand you would likely prefer to stay with my sister and Mr. Scamander, however for the safety of both the magical and non-magical communities, I must ask that you surrender yourself to MACUSA custody to be placed in a secure facility until the arrangements can be made to attempt an Obscurus separation.”

“Are you going to k-kill me?”

“Not if you cooperate. Gwen was right, typically Obscurials are handled with extreme prejudice. But I trust my sister, and I would not have her come to any harm either from her foolish oath. If she believes Mr. Scamander can help you, then I am willing, as Director of Magical Security, to suspend sentencing. But you must cooperate.”

Credence looked up at last, but it wasn’t at Percival. His eyes found Gwen’s and in that moment Percival saw something pass between them he didn’t understand. He’d never seen that look on his sister’s face and it concerned him.

“Alright. I’ll go with you,” Credence said at last. “But I want to ask you not to punish Gwen or Newt or Queenie and Tina. They were only doing what they thought was right, sir.” For the first time, Credence met him eye-to-eye.

“You have my word,” Percival promised. “Goldstein!”

Tina rushed back into the room, having dressed for the day. “Sir?”

“Escort Mr. Barebone to MACUSA. On my order he is to be placed in one of the containment rooms and not disturbed until I arrive.”

“But sir, you aren’t due back for a few more days.”

“I will be arriving shortly. Damn the healer’s orders, we have an Obscurus in the city. And Goldstein, I expect you will stand by him until I arrive. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

She took Credence by the elbow, firmly but not roughly, and in a flash of green flame, the two of them were off to the Woolworth building.

“Gwen, I think it’s best we return home. And Mr. Scamander?”

“Yes, Director Graves?”

“I will need a full write-up of what you will be doing as you separate the Obscurus. The sooner you can get it to me, the better if I am going to convince President Picquery not to have Mr. Barebone executed immediately.”

“It is very detailed magic, but I will have my notes to you by this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scamander. Gwen?”

The two of them Flooed home and Gwen was silent until they arrived. Then she only spoke three words.

“Thank you, Percy.”

She climbed upstairs to bathe and dress before Percival could respond. This was far from over. If he couldn’t convince President Picquery, she could overturn his suspension and push the sentencing through. If Credence was sentenced today, it would be an immediate execution. He had to stall to give Mr. Scamander enough time, and he had to do it for his sister’s sake. Magically bound by oath meant she would not be able to stand by while Credence was executed. She would have to fight tooth and nail and with every drop of her magic. Either she would become a criminal for aiding in his escape from custody, or she would die. Neither was acceptable.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

When Gwen arrived at the Woolworth building with Newt and all his various notes on the separation process, she was terrified that they’d done through with the sentencing and carried it out. She’d wanted to come with Percival that morning, but he’d convinced her she was more useful assisting Mr. Scamander. She understood what had to go into a report and could perhaps help bring clarity to his notes. The result was a semi-coherent, hastily thrown together report that highlighted the success of the separation while only barely mentioning its failure in preserving the life of the young host. She walked it down to Percival’s office personally, where she found him under a mound of parchment and memos. He scribbled one as she entered and sent it skittering off. The paper mouse just managed to avoid the edge of the door on the way out.

“How’s it going?” Gwen asked as she handed her brother the report.

“Seraphina has agreed to the suspension, pending this report. Is it sound?”

“The technical aspects are all there, though it does lack a few minor details. Newt added notes about encouraging Credence to learn magic so he can gain better control and hopefully diminish he Obscurus.”

“And he’s sure that will work?”

“Honestly, he isn’t sure about any of this. He attempted it for a young girl in Sudan, but she didn’t survive the separation.”

“So there’s a high risk Mr. Barebone may not survive.”

“But Newt did put a lot of documentation about the Obscurus itself. It cannot survive outside of the host without a special containment ward. So even once Newt separates it, there’s no risk of the Obscurus posing a sort of threat.”

“I’ll be sure to emphasize that. You understand, this is a long shot.”

“I know. But, at least you’re trying it. That’s more than others would.”

“You have a relationship with this boy.”

“I don’t—“

“I’m not blind, Gwen. I can see there’s something between you. Something tying you together. I don’t understand it, but I know you well enough to realize you are committed and you will not back down. As your brother, all I can do is try to keep you out of jail and alive.”

He leaned back in his chair and the ghost of a smile flashed across his face. “Otherwise who would make my breakfast and hold off Mrs. McCarthy?”

“You can make your own breakfast, you big lump!” Gwen teased back, smacking him playfully on the arm.

“I’m going to see if Tina needs any help.”

“You won’t be able to go inside the room,” Percival warned.

“I wasn’t going to try,” Gwen shot back. “But I can always go and stand outside.”

“Two floors down, room four.”

“Thanks.”

She moved around the desk and placed a kiss on his cheek before leaving. The house-elf elevator operator, Red, snorted at her as she requested the lower floor, but still took her down to the containment room. She knew which one was Credence’s without Percival’s directions. A trio of Aurors were stationed outside the door with Tina. They tensed as she approached, hands going to their wands, but Tina rolled her eyes.

“Stand down,” she told them. “Gwen, what are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to make sure Credence is okay.”

“The Obscurus?” one of the Aurors scoffed. “Why should you care?”

“Quiet Harper!” Tina shot. “He’s doing alright. He was a bit anxious at first, but he’s settled down. This is the right thing to do.”

“How? He’s chained up now, waiting for people who don’t even know him to decide whether they should kill him or not.”

“He’s not chained up. And he’s protected. It was dangerous, relying on the wards and Newt’s suitcase.”

“Newt’s suitcase holds a nundu. I think it can hold a stable Obscurus.”

“There’s nothin’ ‘stable’ about an Obscurus,” Harper retorted.

“Shut your gob, Harper, before I have my brother assign you to washroom duty,” Gwen spat.

The Auror sniffed but seemed to think better of testing Gwen Graves.

“Keep an eye on him, Tina, please? It’s my fault he’s here in the first place. And if anything changes—“

“I know where to find you, Gwen. But it will be fine. You’ll see.”

“Alright. See you, Tina. And watch your mouth, eh Harper?”

The disgruntled Auror muttered something likely rude under his breath, but nodded all the same. Gwen didn’t much like the idea of leaving Credence under guard of Aurors like Harper. The truth of it was, a lot of them were scared of the Obscurus inside of Credence. It had, after all, killed a no-maj already. And they couldn’t see the young man who just wanted to be in a place where he was accepted, and even loved. They just saw the Obscurus and because of that, they were more a danger to Credence than he was to them. The sooner they got him out of MACUSA custody, the better.

When Percival returned from work, very late, Gwen and Newt sat with various texts scattered across the table amid a half-eaten meal and more than a few cups of tea and coffee. The two of them had their heads together and seemed to be going over some sort of ancient ritual in what looked like ancient Greek. Well, more like Newt was going over it and Gwen was transcribing his translation furiously.

“What’s all this?” Percival demanded, not particularly happy to see his table a mess after spending most of the day with reports and in urgent meetings. He really just wanted a meal and his bed.

“Oh, sorry, Percival,” Gwen apologized, moving some books away from his chair and into the floor. “I saved you supper.”

Said supper floated from the ice box, warming up on its way to Percival’s seat across from Newt.

“Mr. Scamander, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“Oh, yes—um—“

“Tina and Queenie’s landlady caught him in their apartment after the racket you made this morning. We had to Obliviate her, or she was going to call the no-maj police.”

“You Obliviated a _no-maj_?”

“Don’t be like that, Percival. I had to do it to protect the Statute of Secrecy. She saw Geroge.”

“George?”

“Yes, my niffler,” New explained.

Percival sighed, slumping into his seat and massaging his forehead.

“And what’s wrong with renting a room?”

“Don’t be silly, Percival, we have plenty of room here, and this will help us prepare to separate the Obscurus. Newt and I can work together and get twice as much done. See, just look at what we—“

But Percival held up his hand, stopping her.

“May I speak to you in _private_ , Gwen?”

Newt may have been generally awkward and annoying, but he could read body language well enough. It was how he took care of his beasts. And right now, it was clear to see that Graves was just about on his last wick.

“I’ll go check on my creatures, shall I?” Newt said, picking up the battered suitcase at his side and disappearing into the living room. Both Graves heard the creaking of the old leather and the gentle thumps as Newt descended into the suitcase, followed by the click of clasps.

“Percival.”

“Gwen, just what in Isolt’s name is going on? I’ve spent the last day campaigning for the Obscurial boy’s life—“

“Credence.”

“—and I come home to find you’ve invited that magizoologist to stay in our house, without my consultation, with his suitcase full of illegal and dangerous creatures. None of this is like you at all, and I’m frustrated and shocked that after everything, you’re still keeping secrets!”

“I’m not keeping secrets.”

 But Percival jabbed his finger where Newt had disappeared.

“It’s not a secret. I didn’t _plan_ for Newt to be discovered, and after it happened I just thought it would be easier for Newt to stay with us. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“When did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re not—“

“Then why do you keep going behind my back? I’m your _brother_.”

Gwen was taken aback by the desperation in her brother’s voice. It was as if he was pleading with her to trust him, and Gwen wanted to. But something kept her and she didn’t understand why.

“I—“

“I’m sorry,” Percival sighed. “It’s been a long day, and you don’t deserve my anger. You were just trying to help. I do have some good news.”

Gwen’s eyes lit up as hope grew.

“I’ve convinced Seraphina to back my temporary suspension and based on Newt’s report, she has authorized you to teach Mr. Barebone simple spells to give him better control of his magic.”

“Me?”

“I may have pointed out that you have already gained his trust and are most familiar with his skills. But you will be accompanied by two Aurors at all times and you are not to go within three feet of him.”

“Three feet? But how will I make corrections? Percival—“

“Those are _my_ terms. I promised mother and father I would care for you, and part of that is ensuring your safety. You are already at risk simply entering the room, I won’t jeopardize you further.”

“What if I need to show him something?”

“Then you will demonstrate from a distance. I am not going to budge on these terms, Gwen.”

She sighed, but nodded. It was not what she would have hoped, but it was what was being offered and if Credence was going to make it out of this, he needed her help. She’d sworn it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Gwen adjusted the dueling padding on her arms and chest as she waited for the Aurors to set the wards and open the door to Credence’s holding room. Really, the dueling gear was overkill, and it made her look absolutely ridiculous. But Percival had thrust it into her hands this morning and refused to give the order until she’d put it on. Flanking her on either side were two Aurors, neither of whom were Tina. Percival thought she might allow Gwen to cheat his rules, and so he’d assigned two of the most disciplined, textbook Senior Aurors he had, Farelli and Williamson. Both Aurors stared straight ahead, their wands at the ready, wearing their own padding. It was all utterly ridiculous, in Gwen’s opinion, but when the door at last swung inwards and she caught sight of Credence looking up from his place on the cot they’d given him, she resolved to abide by the stupid rules, if only so she could continue to be allowed inside.

“Gwen?” Credence looked over her protective gear and Gwen could see hurt in his expression and posture. The new clothes he’d been so proud of were half folded on the end of the cot, leaving him in just his shirt and trousers.

“You are to maintain three feet of separation at all times,” Williamson told him.

“What’s going on?”

“Percival convinced President Picquery to let us practice magic.”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Because my brother is an over-protective toe rag.”

Farelli snorted behind her and even Credence cracked a bit of a smile as Gwen dug into her pocket beneath the padding and pulled out a familiar wand.

“Newt said we could borrow this for our lessons. Here, catch.”

She tossed the wand and Credence managed to snatch it out of the air like a Seeker with the Golden Snitch. As he ran his fingers over the familiar wand, Gwen definitely saw a smile. She turned to the two Aurors beside her.

“Okay, if you want to be useful, stand on opposite walls.

“But Director Graves—“

“I’m perfectly capable of following my brother’s rules. I’ve been doing it almost as long as you, Farelli. But I need some space, so separate. You there, and Williamson over there.”

She gestured to positions against the side walls. Both Aurors would be plenty close enough to intervene, but they also wouldn’t be close enough to each other that one errant spell could incapacitate both. The two Aurors seemed to realize this and they didn’t argue further as they took up position.

“Now then,” Gwen said, turning back to Credence. “Let’s see what you remember.”

Credence, for his part, did very well. He was nervous and timid at first, struggling with a few of the basic spells he’d learned with the two Aurors scrutinizing him. But after a while he seemed to forget they were there and it was once more as if they were in the unused paddock in Newt’s suitcase. He started casting with confidence and even managed an Expelliarmus at the practice dummy the first try. By the time they were done, Credence was grinning and a soft, pink flush had come over his cheeks.

“Great job!” Gwen praised. “You were practicing?”

“I was thinking about it,” Credence admitted, “But you’re also a really good teacher.”

Gwen waved off the compliment. “You’re just saying that because you’ve never been to Ilvermorny. That’s the best school for magic anywhere.”

“Will I get to go after…”

“Maybe!”

There was a heavy knock on the door and Gwen knew their lesson was over. Credence seemed to realize it too and his expression fell.

“I’ll be back again tomorrow. Keep working. The better you get at these spells, the better chance Newt has.”

“Will you thank Newt, for letting me use his wand?” Credence tossed it back and Gwen caught it.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Gwen.”

When they left the room, Gwen was surprised to see President Picquery waiting for her out in the hallway. They closed the doors and cancelled the temporary wards and at last Gwen felt like she could breathe freely again. The wards in the containment room were specifically designed against magic. While they didn’t suppress it, they certainly dampened its effectiveness, which made Credence’s progress even more remarkable.

“The Disarming Spell, Miss Graves?” President Picquery said as Gwen removed her padding.

“Why not? It’s a good spell for learning control. Too hard and you blast the target to kingdom come, and too soft it’s ineffective.”

“And you really think it’s wise to teach an Obscurial how to disarm a witch or wizard?”

“I think every _wizard_ should know how to defend himself.”

“Well, from now on I expect you to avoid offensive spells.”

“I thought _I_ was teaching Credence.”

“With my permission. It is difficult enough to rationalize keeping a murderous Obscurus alive. I can’t also have it learning offensive spells to use against my Aurors.”

“ _Credence_ would not use it against an Auror, unless he was being attacked first. _I_ trust him.”

President Picquery’s eyes narrowed as she fixed Gwen with a glare that had even the most seasoned politician quaking in his dragon-hide boots.

“But _I_ do not,” she replied. “No offensive spells, Miss Graves.”

And with a swish of her purple robes, she left, flanked by her aides.

“If it makes any difference, I thought you did well,” Farelli admitted. Williamson nodded and grunted his agreement.

“Thank you,” Gwen told them. “Same time tomorrow, boys?”

“We’ll be here,” Farelli agreed.

For the rest of the week, each day Gwen met Farelli and Williamson outside of Credence’s holding room. By the third day, they agreed to turn a blind eye to Gwen not wearing all the dueling padding. But they did make sure Gwen followed President Picquery’s “request” and kept away from offensive spells. Credence learned how to do every household spell Gwen could think of, and worked his way through much of her first-year Charms textbook. Credence was eager to learn and always ready for their daily lesson. Gwen supposed she would be too, if all she had to do was stare at four blank walls.

In the evenings, she helped Newt in his research. Percival was perturbed by the eccentric and annoying magizoologist’s presence at first, but begrudgingly accepted that he would be there with his books scattered across the table and Gwen or Queenie helping him. By the end of the week, Gwen, Newt, and Queenie were all summoned to President Picquery’s office and Gwen was worried what the outcome would be.

Percival was already there as they were bid to enter and take a seat in one of the variety of chairs in front of Picquery’s desk. Gwen and Queenie took a seat but Newt seemed to prefer to remain standing, as did Percival.

“I’ve called you all here to assess the case of the Obscurial, Credence Barebone. I expect your honest and complete cooperation in the matter, for the good of the Obscurial, and of the wizarding community.”

“Credence,” Gwen said.

“Excuse me?”

“Please refer to him as Credence, or Mr. Barebone if you must. He’s not only the Obscurus. He’s a wizard, who’s been beaten and neglected by the same wizarding community.”

“Noted, Miss Graves,” Picquery replied tersely. “Since you feel so inclined, why don’t we begin with your assessment of the lessons you’ve been conducting with _Mr. Barebone_.”

“Credence has been progressing quickly. He’s eager to learn and many of the spells and charms I’ve taught him have come naturally to him, even using someone else’s wand.”

“And whose wand has he been using?”

“Mine, Madame President,” Newt replied. “I thought it best that Credence’s magic was exposed to my wand as often as possible before the ritual.”

“And how is that coming, Mr. Scamander?”

“I would like to do a bit more research, but I think it is about ready.”

“You think? How can you be sure of its effectiveness?”

“Well, I’ve used it before, the evidence of which was found by your imposter, Grindelwald. However, I would like a little while longer to refine some of the process, to make it safer for Credence.”

Picquery nodded and hummed thoughtfully. “You have two days.”

“I bed your pardon?” Newt choked.

“Two days!” Gwen protested at the same time.

“If you are being truthful, then it seems as if Mr. Barebone is as prepared as he will ever be. And two days is plenty of time for you to make the ‘refinements’ you are suggesting. Director Graves and Miss Goldstein will take care of procuring the need materials and Miss Graves will focus _her_ attentions on preparing Mr. Barebone.”

“Two days is not nearly long enough,” Gwen insisted.

“And yet, Miss Graves, it’s all we have. Word has spread to other governments that we are holding an Obscurus. I am receiving a great deal of pressure to resolve this situation quickly, and they do not agree with you or Mr. Scamander’s solution. Therefore, two days is all there is. I suggest you all make the most of it. Good day.”

Gwen was already preparing to argue, but her brother caught her eye and shook his head. Picquery was already turning back to her work as they stood and Percival ushered them out.

In the hall with the door closed behind them, Gwen could no longer hold her tongue.

“Two days? Does she _want_ this ritual to fail?”

“In the last three days, the President has been in correspondence with both Presidente Garcia-Reyes and Minister Lavoie, and those are merely the ones who are physically closest. Word will continue to spread. An Obscurus is a threat to all wizard-kind. Most expect Picquery to execute Mr. Barebone immediately.”

“Well she should tell them no!” Gwen retorted. “She seems to have no trouble doing that to _us_.”

“Guinevere Graves, I’ve taught you better than that,” Percival growled. “You know why she cannot simply ‘tell them no’, so don’t let me hear you say something so foolishly naïve again.”

Gwen huffed, chastised. Reluctantly, she admitted Percival was right. She knew enough about international magical cooperation to know Picquery couldn’t simply brush off the pressure of MACUSA’s two closest neighbors.

“Fine,” she admitted. “Then what are we going to do?”

“As the President instructed. Mr. Scamander, you will provide Miss Goldstein with your list of supplies by this evening so that we may have the next two days to acquire the items. Gwen, you’ll focus your lessons on _mentally_ preparing Mr. Barebone. If I understand correctly, he will need his strength for this ritual, so it would be best not to physically or magically text him. And Mr. Scamander, you have free reign over my _personal_ library and all resources here at MACUSA. Finish your preparations. Are we in agreement?”

Newt and Queenie nodded and Gwen begrudgingly followed. It was clear this would happen with or without her, and so Gwen was going to damn well make sure it happened _with_ her.

“I better get down there, then.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

Credence jumped up from his cot as Gwen entered, enthusiastic for the next session. But she also noticed his slight confusion.

“Is it time for our practice already?” he asked.

“Things have changed,” Gwen replied, fighting to keep her frustration and worry out of her voice. It didn’t make any difference, though, as she saw fear flash across his face.

“They’ve changed their minds, haven’t they?”

“More like moved up the plans,” Gwen admitted. “Picquery says we have to perform the ritual to destroy the Obscurus in two days.”

“Oh, and that’s enough time?”

Gwen hadn’t been keeping secrets from Credence in their progress on the ritual. He didn’t understand much of the technical aspects, but the need for further research, for finetuning, that he understood.

“It’s going to have to be. We’re going to switch our focus, to try to prepare _you_. I’ve never been one for Occlumency or Legilimency, that’s Percival and Queenie, but I’m the only one they’re letting in. Basically, we need to focus on your awareness of your magic. In the ritual, we’ll be separating the Obscurus part of your magic from the rest. You need to be able to tell the difference, to make the distinction.”

“That, sounds like it could take some…time.”

“Let’s just see how it goes,” Gwen suggested, not wanting to let on just how impossible what she was asking truly was. It took some of the best witches and wizards _decades_ to do what they’re trying to help Credence do in two days. And those people had the benefit of magical knowledge and understanding. Credence didn’t even know Gamp’s Laws of Transfiguration!

They sat down on Credence’s cot for lack of a better option and Gwen attempted to bring Credence through some of the breathing exercises Queenie had suggested. He did okay with those, so they moved on to gaining self-awareness.

For this, Gwen truly wasn’t sure how Credence was doing. She wasn’t Queenie, for Isolt’s sake! But, maybe there was one way.

Slowly, Gwen reached out and took Credence’s fingers. He flinched at first, but didn’t open his eyes and a few seconds later, his fingers flexed around hers. Taking a deep breath, Gwen closed her own eyes and focused, sensing for Credence’s magic. She hadn’t done this since he’d regained consciousness. What she saw was breathtaking. When she’d found him in the alley, Credence’s magic had been small, hiding deep inside him. His magic still had a concealing quality, but now he was so much bigger. It was like a small, flickering candlelight had grown, not to a roaring fire, but at the very least a steady lamp, like the distant light of a star. But lurking just outside the circle of light, Gwen could feel it, like an animal stalking, ready to pounce. The Obscurus. The lamp flared and grew stronger and, to Gwen’s astonishment, the Obscurus seemed to retreat, pushed back. It gave Gwen hope that they just might be able to do this. That their ritual could work.

Gwen blinked, returning to the physical world. Credence still sat with his eyes closed, a small frown on his face as he concentrated. Slowly Gwen stretched her legs and performed a tempus spell. They’d been there for two hours! It had felt like barely a few moments.

“Credence,” she called softly, brushing a hand over his arm. He gasped, his eyes shooting open.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, grasping her hand.

“Nothing. You were great. I just have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow. You should try the breathing technique a few more times before tomorrow. If you can.”

“What else do I have to do?” Credence replied dryly. He smirked and Gwen chuckled, though the sparse cell drew sharp attention to the truth of his words. In two days, it wouldn’t matter. Either Credence would be free of the Obscurus, or he would be…Gwen didn’t want to think of it.

It was brainless, what she did next, but Gwen refused to regret it. She leaned forward and placed a kiss just at the corner of his lips. It was quick and the two of them separated quickly, cheeks red.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gwen told him, hurrying from the cell. She didn’t see Credence’s smile as he watched her leave.

The next few days passed far too quickly for Gwen’s liking. She managed to persuade Queenie to come down to Credence’s cell in hopes of getting a better idea of Credence’s progress, but the stupid Aurors wouldn’t let her go inside. With the powerful wards around the cell, the only time Queenie could even get a glimpse was when they opened the door for Gwen to enter and exit.

“It’s hard to say, sweetie, you know that,” Queenie told her as they walked back up from Gwen’s last session. “But I think tomorrow will be alright.”

Gwen was a steadily growing bundle of nerves since she’d said goodbye to Credence. It was as if _she_ was the Obscurial.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Credence has you, and Newt, and Percival, and even Teenie, helping him. If that ain’t enough then nothing would be.”

She smiled gently and for a moment Gwen’s spirits were lifted. But her sleep was fraught with nightmares, real and imagined. She remembered facing Grindelwald, and the time Credence lost control of the Obscurus. She remembered finding him beaten in the alley and pictured his lifeless eyes, staring accusingly at her. She startled awake, drenched in sweat and shaking.

“Oh _Merlin_ ,” she groaned.

A distant clatter came from downstairs and Gwen froze. Her mind immediately turned to an intruder. Percival had trained her in dueling for years and Gwen didn’t hesitate to grab her wand to investigate.

The kitchen light was on as she descended the stairs. A shadow crossed the floor and Gwen sprung around the corner, wand drawn. Percival was faster and already had his wand out, a shield charm on his lips before both siblings realized who they were threatening.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen said. “I should’ve realized it was you or Newt.”

But Percival was already shaking his head.

“You are vigilant. I’m proud of you, Gwen.”

Percival wasn’t one to give compliments so his words made Gwen suspicious. As wrapped up as she had been trying to help Credence, Gwen had nearly forgotten about her brother. The moment he’d found out about Credence, he’d been spending his days and evenings at the Woolworth Building. It was like before, but standing in the stark light of their kitchen lamp, it was obvious the toll it was taking on him. There were deep circles under his eyes and his skin was pale and drawn. And he was up in the middle of the night.

“You’ve been getting the rest the healers wanted?”

He didn’t even reply. Percival wouldn’t lie to her, but if he didn’t want to tell the truth, but if he doesn’t want to tell the truth, he simply won’t answer.

“ _Percival_.”

“When am I meant to get rest? I am the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and we are currently holding the oldest, most powerful Obscurus the Wizarding world has ever seen, not to mention the most dangerous Dark wizard in the world.”

His words struck a nerve. Gwen was very aware of the unpredictable situation they’d all found themselves in and how difficult it was for all them. She hadn’t made anything easier.

“This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“Why on Earth would you think that?”

“I found Credence. I realized he had suppressed magic. I brought him here.”

“You didn’t create the Obscurus, and Credence didn’t either. Would it had been easier if someone else had found Credence? Not necessarily. And don’t forget, you exposed Grindelwald’s deception. None of my Aurors did that.”

Those same Aurors that would have destroyed Credence without hesitation. No more Obscurus, nevermind that Credence would’ve been a victim too.

“But...” Percival continued, “I’m proud that it was you. I know maybe it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but I am proud of you for standing up for your friend.”

Gwen ducked her head, hiding the slight blush that came to her cheeks as she remembered the very _un_ -friend-like kiss she’d given Credence. She turned away, making a point of “tidying” the area around the sink even though there were no dirty plates or cups. She couldn’t let on to Percival what had happened. Not only did he have enough to think about, but Gwen didn’t dare risk Percival becoming angry at Credence for something like a stolen kiss. A kiss that was entirely _her_ fault anyways.

“ _Both_ of us should try to sleep,” Percival said at last. “Tomorrow will be challenging for everyone.”

The next morning, a small, integral group found themselves gathered in the depths of the Woolworth building MACUSA Headquarters. It was early, so there was no other personnel in the building beyond the standard cleaning and security. Gwen looked around the plain, circular room with interest. She’d never been in one of the ancient ritual rooms. The floor and walls were stone, left over from the first days of wizardry in New York, before the town had grown into a city. Before her, Newt and Queenie were going over a rather complex array that had been sketched onto the floor in charcoal. Gwen had studied basic runology at Ilvermorny, but she didn’t a snowball’s chance in June of reading this complex set up. That Newt seemed to be examining them with a degree of understanding was impressive. But then, Gwen had figured out long ago that there was more to the magizoologist than met the eye. For a time, Gwen had even entertained the thought that perhaps Newt _wanted_ others to underestimate him. But that was ridiculous, and counterproductive to his goal of educating his fellow wizards on the benefits of magical creatures. If there was one thing Gwen had quickly learned about wizards, it was that they valued magical power and the powerful.

Percival was there of course, overseeing the final preparations with President Picquery. His dark eyes darted over the runic circle critically. But of course _Percival_ would understand it, Gwen thought. He knew everything. Tina stood just behind them, fidgeting anxiously as she watched her sister. And that was it. They would be the only witnesses to Credence’s salvation or destruction.

“Alright,” Newt declared at last, climbing to his feet. His fingers and trousers were smudged with charcoal but the circle was precise with not a line out of place or a curve broken.

“Are you ready, Mr. Scamander?” Picquery asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Newt replied.

The President nodded. “Very well. Goldstein, fetch the Obsc—Mr. Barebone,” she corrected at Gwen’s glare. Tina hurried off and a few minutes later returned with Credence, escorted by Farelli and Williamson.

“Thank you, gentlemen. You can go,” Picquery told them. The two Aurors exchanged a wary glance, but orders from the President were orders and so they filed out, the door closing with an echoing thud.

Credence looked impossibly paler as he looked over the array and the small gathered group. Gwen tried to give him a reassuring smile, but she was afraid perhaps her own uncertainty bled through. Still, he shot her a small grin in return and stood a bit taller as he approached Newt.

“Alright, Credence, this is going to be difficult, but I have confidence the pair of us will get through this together,” Newt tried to reassure him. “The main thing I’ll need you to do is to focus on your magic and the separation between it and the Obscurus. This, will most likely be painful. But if we succeed, you will be free of the Obscurus.”

“That’s all I want,” Credence replied softly.

“That’s all we want as well. When you’re ready, I’ll need you to stand there and focus.”

Gwen recognized the rune “Hagalaz”, to promote balance and awareness. It was an interesting choice, but Gwen had to trust that Newt knew what he was doing. Credence took a few deep breaths before he slowly stepped onto the rune. Gwen was scared; she could only imagine what Credence was feeling.

“Alright,” Newt said at last. “Once I begin the ritual, no matter what happens, it must be seen through to the end. If you interrupt or break the circle, the Obscurus may be released. Does everyone understand?”

The witnesses all nodded; even Picquery agreed without hesitation. She may be the President of MACUSA, but this was Newt’s domain at the moment. If he succeeded, it could very well change the worldwide magical community’s view on Obscurial.

Newt drew his wand and stepped into the circle, taking a place opposite Credence. He raised his wand and with a wide sweep, brought a pure white shield up and over the ritual circle, sealing the two of them inside. Then, to Gwen’s curiosity, he closed his eyes and began swaying.

Ritual magic was not a subject taught at Ilvermorny. A senior student might pursue the subject as an independent study topic, but Gwen hadn’t and neither had any of her friends. Therefore, she’d never seen a ritual being performed before, but she found herself enraptured and swaying in time as Newt chanted in a language so ancient there were few wizards in the world who could name it, let alone understand it. Credence too, was swaying, though his eyes remained closed as he focused on the skills Gwen and the others had imparted to him.

Suddenly, some change came over them. Newt raised his hands, outstretched in supplication as he swayed faster and chanted louder.

And then, Credence collapsed.

“No!” Gwen cried, already moving towards the circle, but Percival grabbed her and hugged her to his chest to keep her from interrupting. Credence jerked and writhed on the floor, his mouth gaping in a silent scream as if he was under the Cruciatus Curse. His eyes rolled back into his head as his back seized, arching off the stone. All around him the runes glowed gold and red, pulsing with the, now frantic, rhythm of Newt’s chanting.

“Don’t interrupt,” Percival growled in her ear as she tried to fight his hold.

“It’s not working,” Gwen screamed.

“Remember what Newt said. No matter what happens, we must let the ritual proceed. If you interrupt now, you will surely kill him, _and_ Newt.”

Gwen stopped struggling, but her eyes never left the contorted figure, choking on the floor.

 _‘Fight it, Credence!’_ she urged silently. ‘ _You’re stronger than it. You’re a fighter, Credence. Fight!’_

She didn’t realize at first as she urged him on that she was applying her Will. But slowly, Credence’s struggles eased as he settled on his side.

“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!” Queenie urged her. “He’s fighting it.”

Gwen didn’t stop to ask what she meant. Instead she focused, projecting her Will. Credence rolled onto his front and then his hands and knees. He was shaking but suddenly his head shot up. Two pitch-black eyes met Gwen’s and held her.

 _‘Fight it. You are one of the strongest wizards I’ve ever known. You’re kind and loyal and you’re a survivor. Focus, Credence, cut it out._ Free _yourself!’_

For just a moment, the black faded away and Gwen saw those warm brown eyes. They met hers and Gwen saw something there she didn’t understand. It didn’t matter because suddenly he threw his head back, letting out the most primal, tortured scream Gwen would ever hear. Darkness, as black as a moonless, starless night, poured out of his every pore. Newt flicked his wand and the darkness was encapsulated, condensed into a writing mass even as it poured from Credence. It lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity, until at last there was no more and Credence collapsed.

Newt sagged as the light of the runes faded away and the shield dropped. Tina rushed in and caught his arm just before he collapsed. They shared some sort of unreadable look, but Gwen didn’t see it. As soon as the shield was lowered, she broke free of Percival’s grip and rushed to Credence’s side. She knelt over him, careless of the charcoal or the shifting Obscurus, bound in a protective forcefield and hovering just over her head. None of it mattered as Gwen rolled Credence onto his back, praying to anyone who’d listen.

“Please, Credence?” she rasped, her voice a ghost of what it had been. He was pale as the snow that fell outside and his eyes were closed. But there, just there, his chest rose for the barest of breaths. Once, twice, a third time. Gwen sat there counting as tears of relief streamed down her face.

“He’s alive,” she said.

“Merlin’s beard,” Newt staggered across the ruined circle with Tina’s help. Percival was already levitating the contained Obscurus into a magically sealed crate.

“He’s breathing,” Gwen pointed out.

“Yes, he’s likely magically depleted. It will take some time for him to regain consciousness. But, I believe we were successful. Time will tell.”

Tina helped him away to a bench where he could rest. Queenie knelt down beside Gwen as she gently stroked Credence’s hand. Newt was right; Gwen could barely feel his magic at all. But what she did feel was light and welcoming. The Obscurus was indeed, gone.

Magical depletion was no small matter and Credence had immediately been transferred to Fontaine Magical General within the hour for monitoring and convalescence. There, under the eyes of New York’s finest magical healers, Credence’s magic slowly replenished itself. During that time, Credence remained in a magically-induced coma, per the healers’ demands. Gwen hated it because it made him lay so still and there were a few times during her visits that she was afraid Credence had passed on. But there were the tiny rises and falls of his chest that kept her hopeful and anticipating the day the healers would lift the coma. Each time she visited, she’d set her hand on his and bask in the feeling of his growing magic. He was brimming with it. Credence would be one of the strongest wizards of their generation.

At last, two weeks after the ritual, when the International Confederation had been appeased and things had returned to normal at MACUSA, the healers finally lifted the coma.

Gwen was at his bedside, with Newt, Tina, and Queenie. Newt was looking better too, having rested for nearly a week straight after the ritual himself. He smiled down at Tina and briefly squeezed her hand as they watched Credence’s eyes flutter open. He looked up and there was Gwen, hope shining in her eyes.

“Credence, how are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” he rasped, coughing. Gwen hurried to grab the glass from the nightstand and fill it with a quick _Aguamenti_. She helped him sit up and take small sips until satisfied. He glanced around the small group.

“Did…it work?”

“Why don’t you look for yourself?” Queenie suggested.

Credence took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he focused inwards. Gwen’s smile grew wider as she watched surprise, relief, and joy bloom across his expression. His eyes shot open.

“I don’t feel it at all! It’s gone. All of it!”

“There will be a mark,” Newt warned. “You can’t go through everything you have without there being some sort of scar. But with training, you can become a fine wizard, Credence. Well done.”

“Thank you. To all of you.” He met each of their eyes before settling on Gwen. “You risked everything for me.”

“You’re our friend, honey,” Queenie replied.

It was such a simple declaration, but tears welled up at the only friends he’d ever had.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue:

Today was to be a day of days. Today, they made the trip to find Credence a wand. It was typically done when a child first entered their schooling at Ilvermorny, but due to Credence’s circumstances, it was decided to hold a special selection. He’d travelled with Queenie on the train up the coast to Mount Greylock, where Ilvermorny sat shrouded in perpetual fog. As they approached the school gates, Queenie’s mood only seemed to liven.

“I never thought I’d be back so soon! It hasn’t changed a bit. Oh look, there’s Gwen!”

Credence had known Gwen was a witch, but in their time together he’d seen her only in normal dresses like any other girl and what magic she’d done had been small. But as he spotted her waiting at the school gates, he finally saw her for the witch she was, sporting robes of Ilvermorny blue and cranberry, fastened by a knotted brooch with the symbol of a thunderbird on her sleeve.

“Credence! Queenie!” She waved to them. Gwen pulled her wand from her robes and made a sweeping arch over her head. A blue shield dissipated between the two columns of the gate and she hurried out, not hesitating to tackle Credence in a hug. As she looked over his suit and the new, shorter haircut Mr. Graves had insisted on the day before, Credence was glad Queenie had convinced him to wear his new blue one.

“You look well,” she said at last.

“So do you,” Credence croaked out.

“Nervous?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

“Well don’t worry, we’ll find you a wand. Everyone always does.”

Of course, Gwen managed to pinpoint his biggest fear for today right away. She was almost _too_ perceptive sometimes, occasionally bordering on Queenie’s Legilimens powers.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. They stepped through the gate and the blue wall of magic grew back out of the pillars.

The mist was thick and soupy as they climbed but eventually it gave way and rising up over them, the only part bathed in sunlight, was a series of stone buildings topped with gray spires. Others in robes like Gwen’s lounged in the sun or walked from building to building on their way to class. All of the witches and wizards Credence had seen, up to that point, had been adults. But a group of kids, only a bit older than Modesty pushed past them, chasing after a purple spark that seemed to bounce off every available surface.

“Watch it!” Gwen called after them. But she smiled and shrugged in Credence’s direction as if to say “What can you do”.

“The wand hall is this way.” Gwen gestured towards the lowest and widest of the buildings, the base of which began in rough stone, growing up into even blocks. At the center of the hall was a crest of the same knot on Gwen’s brooch, watched over by four statues. Credence recognized the thunderbird, but the others he’d never seen before. There was a horned serpent, a creature with spines down it’s back, and a ferocious cat of some kind. Gwen skirted around the edge of the knot, as did Queenie. Credence followed them, not wishing to set foot in another magical circle in the near future. He’d barely made it out of the last one.

Gwen led them through a set of doors at the far side and they proceeded down the corridor to a single, padlocked wooden door, outside of which stood a tall, slender woman in deep blue robes.

“Headmistress Jauncey,” Gwen greeted the woman and Credence immediately stood a bit taller out of habit. Whenever someone of authority was present, he was to show only respect and obedience. She looked him over, as most did, but surprisingly her appraisal wasn’t followed by immediate disgust as it had always been when his mother had looked at him. If anything, Credence thought there could’ve been even the slightest inkling of admiration? It was hard to tell.

“Queenie,” the Headmistress said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you also, Headmistress,” Queenie replied.

“And you must be Credence. President Picquery has told me of your…circumstances. Truly remarkable. I wouldn’t mind reading through Mr. Scamander’s notes and speaking to you about your experience.”

The last thing Credence wanted to do was relive the ritual, in any capacity. But he nodded, afraid the Headmistress might change her mind.

“Right then,” Headmistress Jauncey said at last. “Shall we?”

She turned, running the tip of her wand over the complicated twists and turns of the padlock. Credence expected to hear a simple click of the single locking mechanism. He didn’t expect the echoes of at least half a dozen other locks reverberating down the corridor from inside the heavy oak door. Gwen shrugged at the silent question he sent her way. It seemed like an awful lot. There wasn’t time to really explain as Headmistress Jauncey led the way.

Credence could hardly believe his eyes. It was a veritable treasure trove inside as row upon row of thin sticks stood on display. His mother would’ve lost her mind, seeing all this. So many wands in one place, the magic hummed in the very walls of the wand hall.

“How is anyone to choose?” he asked, looking over the nearest display of dark, mahogany wands with mother of pearl inlays.

“Well, you don’t really choose,” Gwen said. “The wand chooses you.”

“I think we’ll start with a Jonker’s wand,” the Headmistress added, leading the way down one of the rows. Credence moved to follow her, but he was brought up short as he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eye. As if in a trance, he detoured down a different row, searching for the same flash. His eyes landed on a long, thin wand, relatively plain compared to the others. His hand came up to take it, but he froze a mere inch from the polished wood. He remembered finding the fake wand in Modesty’s room. He remembered the fear, not just for himself, but for his sister. She’d been curious, but that hadn’t meant anything to their mother.

“Credence?”

He startled, jumping back and ducking his head, preparing for a strike. But his mother wasn’t here. She would never be here. Gwen stood before him and all she displayed was concern.

“I’m alright,” he said, straightening. He had to remind himself. This wasn’t bad. This was who he truly was. Steeling himself, he took the wand off the display.

The effect was immediate and blinding. Magic sparked like wildfire as soon as his hand touched the wand, spreading in a raging inferno up his arm. It was nothing like handling Newt’s or Gwen’s wands. It knocked the breath from his lungs and energized him. His magic reached out for the magic of the wand core greedily, entwining and enmeshing itself within the very core of the wood.

“I think we’ve found it,” Gwen said. “That was easy.”

“Yeah,” Credence breathed, grinning.

“Congratulations. You’re on your way to becoming a proper wizard,” Headmistress Jauncey said. She and the others had been just at the end of the row and witnessed the whole display. The Headmistress looked proud, almost.

Credence opened his jacket and tucked the wand into the magically extended inner pocket. It was a reassuring warmth against his chest as he buttoned his jacket.


End file.
